


Overplay Your Hand

by SentientBlob



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Eating Disorders, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:40:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 55,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25694413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SentientBlob/pseuds/SentientBlob
Summary: Axel struggles to cope with the pressures of the Organisation, and finds comfort in increasingly unhealthy places.Saïx observes, and finds himself dealing with emotions he no longer thought he was capable of.As they struggle to repair the bond between them, Axel compares their relationship to the one they once had.Slow burn AkuSai with a side of awkward teenage LeaIsa. TW for various themes relating to mental health (full warnings inside).
Relationships: Axel/Saïx (Kingdom Hearts), Isa/Lea (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 97
Kudos: 126





	1. Priorities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic starts out during Days and follows the same (rough) timeline, and eventually branches into post-KH3. Mental health issues are a continual theme throughout, so please note a major trigger warning for signs of depression and disordered thoughts/behaviours relating to eating (but an eventual happy ending, promise). Some chapters include alcohol use (these are one-offs rather than dependency, and include one instance of underage drinking). Everything is warned at the beginning of the relevant chapters.  
> Please tell me if you think there’s anything else that requires a trigger warning.

**Day 71**

Axel didn’t remember the sun being this bright. He wondered whether his memories had been playing tricks on him, or whether the sun really had gotten brighter during his absence. His fingernails scraped across the ledge of the clocktower as he turned the thought over in his head. Neither option seemed particularly appealing; an internal world he couldn’t trust, or an external one that kept spinning without him.

“Axel?”

Axel jolted at the sound of his name, fingernails coming to an abrupt halt at the edge of the brick. Roxas was looking at him expectantly, and Axel realised with a pang of guilt that he hadn’t been listening to a word Roxas had said.

“Sorry. Brain freeze. Literally.” Axel shot Roxas a guilty smile. “Go again.”

“I was just saying, I started inviting Xion up here while you were gone.”

Axel’s smile turned to a look of disbelief. “Xion? Really?”

“Yeah. I promised her the three of us could have ice-cream together – you know, once you got back.”

There was a brief moment of silence. Axel thought Roxas was expecting some kind of response, but he didn’t really know what to say. Xion? The weird new recruit who never spoke? Axel tried to put a face to the name, then realised he’d never actually seen them without their hood up.

“Me and her are friends now,” Roxas continued.

“Oh. That’s great, Roxas.”

And it was great, sure – he was happy that Roxas had been getting on alright at the Organisation while he’d been gone. But at the same time, he felt oddly stung by it. The idea that Roxas had barely felt his absence settled heavily in his stomach, and it was at that point that Axel pushed himself up off the floor, empty ice-cream stick in hand.

“Well, I guess I’d better get back before Saïx spontaneously combusts. See you later, Rox.”

Roxas looked up at him from the floor. “Maybe we could hang out tonight? Fill me in on everything you’ve been up to while you were gone?”

Axel considered it. _What have I been up to? Ah, not much. A couple murders, a couple almost-murders, and I may have been complicit in a kidnapping. So, y’know. Standard stuff._ Somehow, Axel didn’t think Roxas would look on all that particularly favourably – and he didn’t think he could manage an entire evening deflecting the conversation away from his activities at Castle Oblivion.

“Sounds great, but I think the boss might have other plans in store for my evening. Nothing says ‘welcome back’ like a grilling from Xemnas and a stack of paperwork.”

“That sucks.”

“Tell me about it. If you don’t see me again, it’s because Saïx has set me another essay and I’ve decided life’s not worth the effort,” Axel deadpanned.

Roxas gave Axel a half-hearted punch to the ankle. “Don’t joke about that. You better be at this clocktower tomorrow, okay?”

“Yes sir,” Axel said wryly, opening up a Dark Corridor. “Later.”

Saïx wasn’t there when Axel stepped out into the Grey Area, and Axel, never one to waste an opportunity to procrastinate, decided that the best course of action was to slink back to his room and take a nap.

Sleep didn’t come easily, though. The ceilings here were identical to those at Castle Oblivion, pale grey and dull metal, and the sight of it as he lay in bed made his skin crawl. He could feel his pulse race each time his eyes flickered open, falling back into rhythm only once he’d reminded himself he was home, he was safe, he was _fine._ It was a while until he gave up on sleep, hauling himself onto his side and staring glumly at the wall instead. He couldn’t sleep like that, but it didn’t matter. It was still better than the ceiling.

Or maybe it wasn’t. Even without the reminder, memories of Castle Oblivion seemed to permeate his thoughts, one after another after another. His encounter with Vexen in Twilight Town, toying with him, incinerating him, laughing it off. His face-off with Marluxia; Axel had promised he had no problem with eliminating Naminé to get to him, and he’d meant it. He’d done only what he had to do – but he wondered if Roxas would see it that way, if he knew what he’d done.

Axel remembered the way Roxas’ face had broken out into the biggest smile when he’d shown up in Twilight Town today – it had seemed so sincere, as though he was, somehow, really, genuinely happy. Happy to see _him_. Something told him Roxas might look at him differently if he knew about everything he’d done. The thought made his stomach tighten uncomfortably, as though he could feel his insides knotting themselves together. He found himself wondering if Xion had the same innocence that Roxas seemed to have, and the idea left a sour taste in his mouth. Innocence was something he could never get back.

* * *

**Day 73**

After a night of little sleep, Axel had woken up with a headache to rival even his most brutal of hangovers. Roxas had caught him in the Grey Area just before he left, shuffling into the room with an expression on his face that led Axel to suspect his headache was about to get a whole lot worse.

Five minutes later, Axel’s suspicions had been proven correct. Roxas had wandered off looking reassured, entirely oblivious to the fact that Axel was looking quite the opposite. Number Fourteen was missing, and Axel had found himself – against his better judgement – agreeing to ask Saïx for information.

Axel glanced across the room, watching Saïx as he handed Roxas his mission papers for the day. The pounding in his head seemed to double down instantly, as though trying to draw his attention away from the offending object. Perhaps it was his body’s feeble attempt at self-preservation; Saïx had been at the root of a considerable number of his headaches, lately.

It was probably an understatement to say that recently, things between he and Saïx had been… strained. He had to admit, his promise to Roxas hadn’t been entirely selfless; the interactions between them lately had consisted of little more than a few grunted words and a disdainful look, and this was a prime opportunity to attempt an actual conversation. Axel was convinced that if they could just spend a little time together outside of meetings and mission reports and the never-ending talk of _Kingdom Hearts this, Kingdom Hearts that,_ Saïx would finally stop being such a _headache._

* * *

“Saïx!” Axel breezed out of the Dark Corridor, depositing himself on the nearest couch and resting his feet on the coffee table.

Saïx eyed Axel’s shoes with disdain. “Mission successful?”

“Yes sir.” Axel handed over his Mission Report with a flourish.

After a minute of silence while he looked it over, Saïx flicked open his binder and neatly inserted the Mission Report. “Satisfactory. You may go.”

“Hmm? So soon?”

Saïx looked up from the binder with raised eyebrows. Axel was well aware that sticking around any longer than necessary ran the risk of being straddled with extra work; normally, he couldn’t get away fast enough. “Do you have something else to report?”

“No, no. Just thought it might be nice to spend some time with my old friend Saïx. It’s been a while. Don’t you miss me?” Axel grinned.

Saïx sighed in a way that Axel thought was a little dramatic. “Axel, I’m very busy. Whatever you’re up to, I don’t have time for it.”

“What would I possibly be up to, hm? Just hanging out. Like old times, y’know?”

“If you have so much free time on your hands, clearly we’re not working you hard enough. I have plenty more missions for you to do if—”

“Whoa, whoa, Saïx. Unless that mission is to take a well-earned nap, I’m not interested.”

Saïx let out an impatient huff. “Come out with it, then. What do you want?”

“Well, if you insist on throwing all social niceties out of the window, I was wondering where Xion is. Roxas said he’s not seen her since before I came back from Castle Oblivion.”

“Is that all? Number Fourteen was sent on a mission to Twilight Town, approximately two weeks ago. They have yet to return.”

“What? Why?”

“That is… unclear. I was planning to send Number 13 to retrieve them if they were to fail to return soon. Perhaps you should accompany him. It would be inconvenient if he were to meet the same fate.”

Axel wasn’t sure what exactly Saïx thought had happened to Xion, but the idea of anything happening to Roxas sent a shiver down his spine. “How about we go tomorrow?”

“Fine.” Saïx flipped the binder open again and began scribbling something on a sheet of paper. “Was that everything? I have other things to attend to.”

“I guess.” Axel got up from the couch and turned to leave, hesitating a moment. “You know, I really would be up for hanging out sometime, the two of us.”

Saïx looked up from the binder with an expression that said he was genuinely bewildered by the idea. “Don’t be preposterous. We have important matters to attend to.”

Axel felt himself slump.

“Whatever.”

* * *

**Day 75**

Axel sat in the Grey Area, regarding Saïx with mild contempt.

When Axel had suggested that he and Saïx spend some time together the other day, the response had not been what he had hoped for, and the whole situation had stirred up a feeling in him that he was eager to forget. If he were being honest with himself, he would have admitted that the feeling was most similar to his memories of hurt, or at the very least, disappointment. Axel was not, however, being honest with himself, and had quickly dismissed that notion – not only because he didn’t have a heart, but also because _like I cared, anyway_. As such, Axel had decided that he was not hurt, he was not disappointed, he was just sickeningly _irritated_ , and now, it felt like every tiny thing Saïx did only added fuel to the fire.

Shifting his gaze to the two stood in front of Saïx, Axel could tell just by looking at them that they were nervous. He eyed them with apprehension, Roxas with his sleeves pulled down past his hands, and Xion’s hood drawn tight over her head.

“Together?” Saïx asked. The word came out like a dagger, sharp and icy cold.

“Yeah. Is it a problem?” Xion replied, shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot.

“What in the world would possess you to ask at a time like this?” Saïx’s irritation was written all over his face, gazing down at the two of them as though he was genuinely unable to understand the audacity of such a request. Xion visibly flinched at the response. “We’re shorthanded as it is. And yet you expect me to say yes?”

Neither replied. Seconds passed as they stared at the floor in silence, unable to look Saïx in the eye. Axel regarded the situation uneasily from the couch behind them. Saïx had an aura about him that could be intimidating even to Axel given the right situation, and as Saïx loomed in front of them now, it served only to emphasise just how small and vulnerable Roxas and Xion were. Axel clenched his fists in a sudden surge of irritation.

“Why not?” Axel did his best to sound nonchalant as he strode up to Saïx. “Seems like a good idea to me. Put two half-pints together and you get a whole.”

Saïx gazed at him with an expression that said he couldn’t care less.

Roxas looked up from the floor, obviously feeling reassured by Axel’s support. “If you let us pair up, we can do tougher missions for you, no problem.”

Roxas and Xion gazed up at Saïx hopefully. Axel appeared to suddenly become very interested in his fingernails.

“Fine. As you wish. But you had better prove that two people can work like three, or this arrangement comes to an end.”

Roxas and Xion exchanged barely concealed looks of elation, and Axel had to resist the urge to hiss at them to _keep it subtle, Jesus Christ._

Before long, Saïx had sent them off on the day’s mission. He turned to Axel with an expression that he found difficult to read, staring at him wordlessly while Axel reclined on the couch. Axel could feel Saïx’s gaze on him, and it served only to fuel the anger that had been simmering away inside of him since their previous encounter. After a long moment of pretending he hadn’t noticed, he finally looked up.

“Could you stop that?” Axel asked.

Saïx continued to stare, expression unchanging. “Stop what, exactly?”

“Looming. You’re always _looming_. It’s really very off-putting, y'now.”

“Are you trying to tell me that my _standing up_ offends you?”

“No, your standing up is fine. It’s your _looming_ I have a problem with. And quit staring at me. If you have something to say to me, just say it.”

Saïx didn’t reply for a moment, continuing to fix Axel with that intense gaze of his, before he seemed to emerge from whatever his train of thought had been and opened his binder with a snap.

“I have a more difficult mission for you today.”

“Of _course_ you do.”

It felt like a punishment, but Axel wasn’t sure exactly what for. Saïx held out the papers containing the mission details, and Axel snatched them out of Saïx’s hand with a roll of his eyes.

“Axel.”

Axel looked up at Saïx, doing his best to hold back a scowl. “What?”

“I would advise you to be mindful of your priorities.”

Saïx swept away before Axel got a chance to reply. He was overcome with a sudden urge to tell Saïx to _go fuck yourself_ , to screw up the mission papers into a ball and lob them at his back as he left – or, better yet, to march after him and do something that might actually do him some damage.

Instead, Axel flopped down onto the couch and stared at nothing, Saïx’s papers held over his face to block out the ceiling. It still made his skin crawl to look at it.

The knot in his stomach ached.

* * *

Saïx hadn’t been wrong when he’d said this mission would be difficult.

There had been reports of an impostor being sighted in Twilight Town – an outsider dressed in Organisation garb – and Axel had been given the task of tracking them down and trailing them through town, gathering intel on who they were and what their agenda was. That in itself was a big enough task, but things had been complicated by the presence of a particularly troublesome Heartless. It was early evening now, and Axel had successfully located the impostor three separate times, but had been interrupted each time by the Heartless before he’d managed to find out anything of use. His attempts to just destroy the Heartless and be done with it had proved impossible – each time he tried to attack, it had flown far up out of reach, and stayed there until Axel was distracted again. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d been thrown to the ground or lacerated by sharp metal talons, and his whole body burned with the pain of it.

Axel was starting to worry.

The mission details Saïx had handed him had stressed the importance of getting this mission done as an urgent priority, and hours later, Axel had got absolutely nowhere.

This wasn’t like him, and Axel knew that, and the frustration that grew from that fact made him feel even worse. He hadn’t been feeling himself ever since he’d got back from Castle Oblivion, and whatever this weird feeling was, it was putting him off his game, _bad_.

Axel glimpsed a flash of black disappearing around a corner, darting after it as fast as he could with the searing pain in his left ankle. He paused a moment to fetch a Potion from his inventory, but as soon as he had retrieved the bottle, he heard the telltale caw of the Heartless as it swooped down again. As Axel tried to stagger out of the way, his ankle gave way, and the Heartless knocked him to the ground once again with the full weight of its huge metal wing. Axel heard the Potion bottle shatter beside him. The impact of his skull on the bricks made him cry out before he could stop himself, the pain radiating like shockwaves into his neck, his jaw, his eyes. A wave of nausea washed over him, and he swallowed thickly to keep it at bay.

Axel wasn’t sure how long he stayed there. He didn’t move until the searing pain in his skull had receded to a dull throb, until he was sure his stomach wouldn’t betray him if he sat up. He pushed himself into an upright position with grazed palms, doing his best not to wince at the jolts of pain that ricocheted around his body like a pinball machine. Each eruption of pain seemed to echo outwards, radiating from limb to limb to such an extent that he struggled to tell which were the parts that were actually injured.

Axel fished around blindly in his inventory until he found what he was looking for – his very last Potion. He downed it in one, and it wasn’t enough – he’d known it wouldn’t be – but it took the edge off, enough to allow him to stand gingerly and summon a Dark Corridor back to the castle.

Axel swallowed thickly again, but this time, the nausea seemed to stem more from apprehension than from the throbbing behind his eyes. His head felt foggy, a sickening swirl of dizziness and exhaustion and pain, but the worst of it all was the overwhelming sense of failure.

“Axel!”

The voice seemed to echo around Axel’s skull as he stumbled through the Dark Corridor into the Grey Area. His head pulsated, the pain white hot and nauseating. Dark spots danced across his vision, and he staggered forward blindly, searching for something to grab onto. He was vaguely aware of a sudden scuffling sound some distance away from himself, but before he could really process it, he felt an arm wrap around his waist and his own arm being wrapped around what he was sure was someone’s shoulders. He recoiled from the touch with an involuntary hiss, the contact pressing uncomfortably on several tender spots, but didn’t make to move away, grateful to have something supporting his weight. Axel was aware that someone was speaking, but the voice sounded strangely faraway. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he was grateful for the soft, warm tone they spoke in, easy on his throbbing head and comforting in a way that Axel hadn’t known he’d needed until it was there.

Axel recognised the familiar sensation of a Dark Corridor and felt himself being pulled through, the person holding him speaking soft words of comfort the entire time. They placed him gently on some kind of bed, and Axel became aware of a second voice, faster and more urgent, but just as quiet. Something hard and cold was pressed into his hand and guided to his lips, and he immediately recognised the tang of a Mega-Potion. Axel downed it in large gulps, and instantly, the pain began to ebb, the dark spots faded from his vision, and the voices suddenly spoke with clarity, as though he’d come up for air after swimming underwater. Axel sank back with relief, but noticed with frustration that the potion had done nothing for the familiar ache of fatigued muscles or the swirl of nausea in his stomach.

“Axel?”

Roxas looked up at him with wide eyes, and Axel noticed with some degree of embarrassment that he’d been holding his hand.

“Hey, Roxas.”

“Are you... okay now?"

Axel tried his best to summon up a grin, but it came out more like a grimace. “Never better.”

Roxas gazed at him with an expression that made it clear he didn’t believe him. Axel looked away, feeling embarrassed, and cast his eyes around the room instead. He recognised it as Vexen’s old lab – the closest thing they had to an infirmary. Several moments passed before he registered there was a second presence in the room – Saïx, standing expressionless in the corner, gazing at Axel silently. _Looming_ , Axel thought with a scowl.

A few moments of silence passed. The atmosphere was tangibly awkward, at least to Axel.

“So… Do I finally get that day off tomorrow? Or does my near-death experience still not make the grade?” Axel asked, searching for anything to say to break the silence. Truth be told, he felt far too fragile to be making conversation right now, but he was determined to appear nonchalant about the whole thing. He wasn’t going to humiliate himself any more than he already had.

Saïx ignored the question completely, fixing him with a piercing stare.

“How are you feeling?”

“…Better. Horrible, but… better.”

“The Potion will have healed any serious injuries. What you’re feeling now is just a concussion.”

“ _Just_ a concussion? I feel like I died a week ago and I’ve just been dug out the ground.”

“Perhaps a Panacea would be of use.”

Axel registered the churning of his stomach with a grimace. “Nah, I’m good for now.”

“Then, we should talk.” Saïx gave Roxas a pointed look. “Privately.”

Roxas looked positively outraged at the idea, opening his mouth as though to protest, but one look from Saïx told him that this was a command, not a suggestion, and Roxas promptly shut his mouth and stood up from the chair at Axel’s bedside.

“I’ll come see you tomorrow,” Roxas said, chewing on his lip. He paused for a moment before reluctantly removing his hand from Axel’s, then padded out of the room, closing the door quietly and carefully behind him.

The atmosphere in the room changed abruptly. Saïx strode forward wordlessly to stand next to the bed. He didn’t take Roxas’ place in the chair, just stood in front of it, unmoving. He fixed Axel with an icy stare – the kind of stare that twisted his fragile stomach into knots upon knots upon knots. Axel knew exactly what that look meant – _anger_ – and he felt his resolve drain at the sight of it, struggling to maintain the nonchalance he’d been feigning.

“Axel.” For some reason, the sound of Saïx saying his name made Axel’s chest hurt in a way that had nothing to do with his injuries. “Your mission today was an utter disaster. You’ve been reckless, lately. You’re becoming a liability.”

Axel’s chest felt so tight that he didn’t think he could get any words out.

“I warned you earlier, to be mindful of your priorities. I hope you take that advice.”

Axel had expected a response like this, but it didn’t make hearing it any easier. Saïx’s words rang out like sirens in his still aching head, and he couldn’t help but compare them to a voice in his memories. A voice that sounded so much like Saïx, but that had spoken with warmth, with comfort. Axel missed the sound so much that it _hurt_.

A moment passed, and Saïx sighed, running a hand over his face. “It’s late. Is there anything you need before I go?”

Axel shook his head weakly.

Saïx made his way to the door, but hesitated with one hand on the handle. “Will you manage till morning, on your own?” The question came out awkwardly, as though Saïx was deeply uncomfortable with asking it.

Axel sighed. “Just go.”

Saïx paused for just a fraction of a second, before swinging open the door and shutting it quietly behind him.

The gentle hum of electricity sounded harsh and loud in the room, each tiny noise echoing off the walls in a way that put Axel on edge. Vexen’s lab was vast, and sitting in the huge space by himself had Axel feeling more alone than he could ever remember being. The room was cold – Vexen’s attribute had been ice, after all – and the warmth of his hand from Roxas’ touch had quickly faded away. Now, all it felt was empty.

* * *

_“Lea, stop. This is a bad idea.”_

_Isa had to shout it for Lea to hear him. The noise of water crashing into water was loud and unrelenting, and the stone walls of Fountain Court served only to amplify it, like standing in an echo chamber. Lea looked down at Isa from the top of the fountain, grinning._

_“Lighten up a little, Isa. You ever heard of having a good time?”_

_Isa scowled, leaning back against the wall with crossed arms. “You ever heard of breaking your neck? Get_ down _, Lea.”_

_Lea rolled his eyes. “C'mon. What's the worst that could happen?"_

_Lea didn’t miss that Isa had rolled his eyes right back, and he was tempted to stay up there for a little longer just to make a point. But he also didn’t miss the way Isa’s forehead had creased the way it did when he was nervous, and with a sigh, he resigned himself to the fact that this wasn’t going to be much fun if Isa wasn’t in on it and started to climb down._

_Lea had made it to the last tier when it happened. A slip of the hand and a yell that Isa barely heard over the crash of Lea’s body falling into the shallow pool of water at the bottom of the fountain._

_“Lea?” Isa yelled. Lea could hear when Isa stepped into the fountain, footsteps splashing into the water in quick succession as he approached._

_He could hear Isa breathe a sigh of relief as Lea pushed himself up off the floor, but the movement sent a bolt of white-hot pain down his left arm, having obviously taken the brunt of the fall._

_“Are you okay?” Isa’s voice was quiet and gentle, as though speaking too loudly might somehow cause him further harm._

_“Yeah, but… it hurts…” Lea ground the words out between clenched teeth, trying hard not to cry._

_Isa took a moment to consider the best course of action, before reaching down and hauling Lea to his feet. He wrapped an arm around Lea’s back as he guided him out of the fountain, and Lea leaned in closer, grateful for his warmth after the cold of the water. Lea had to suppress a noise of disappointment when Isa deposited him on a nearby bench and the warmth disappeared._

_A few seconds passed in silence as Lea screwed his eyes shut and tried to will away the pain in his arm._

_“You’re quiet.”_

_Lea only hummed in response._

_Isa sighed. “It worries me when you’re quiet.”_

_“I’m fine.”_

_Isa raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? Lift up your arm.”_

_Lea opened his eyes to fix Isa with a look of steely determination, but it was short-lived. The attempt to move his arm sent another stab of pain down from shoulder to wrist, and this time, he couldn’t suppress the wince._

_“Please don’t say ‘I told you so’.”_

_“I’ll pity you for now. But you can expect a hell of a lot of ‘I told you so’s later.”_

_Lea’s only response was a chattering of his teeth, and he wrapped his good arm around his body in a feeble attempt to warm himself up. Isa regarded him silently for a moment, before taking off his jacket and draping it around Lea’s shoulders._

_Maybe it was the tenderness of the gesture that encouraged him to do it. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the fall impairing his inhibitions, or maybe it was the intensity of the pain and the overwhelming urge for comfort. But for whatever reason, Lea found himself reaching towards Isa with his good arm and gingerly taking his hand in his own._

_Isa shuffled awkwardly next to him, unsure of what to do. “Jeez. Must be pretty bad if you’re holding my hand now.”_

_Lea withdrew his hand lightning-fast, feeling his cheeks burn. Both kept their eyes fixed firmly on the floor, feeling too awkward to look each other in the eye._

_Isa sighed. “Come on.” He reached over to take Lea’s hand in his own again. “I’ll hold your stupid hand.”_

* * *

Saïx’s thoughts were filled with Axel as he lay in bed that night, a concept that made Saïx _seethe._

There was so much to think about already, and there was certainly no room in his brain and no time in his schedule to be sitting around worrying about the latest scrape Axel had got himself into. There was a meeting with Xemnas tomorrow, and it wasn’t the kind of meeting he wanted to turn up to on three hours’ sleep.

And yet, here he was.

Saïx sat up in bed with a huff, clicking on the lamp at his bedside and pulling his binder into his lap. If he was going to be losing sleep tonight, he might as well be doing something productive.

But an hour later, the piece of paper in front of him was still blank.

Saïx leaned back against the headboard with a heavy sigh, pushing his hair out of his face impatiently.

Axel. That was all he could think about.

Seeing him in that state today had caused a reaction in him that he hadn’t known he was capable of. His body had reacted to Axel as though it still had a heart, as though he could really feel the surge of adrenaline and the pounding of his pulse. His memory told him his hands had been shaking as he’d lifted the Potion to Axel’s lips, but he told himself that he must be imagining it. Even now, the effects remained, unable to sleep with his thoughts racing and chest tight with worry.

He told himself he must be imagining that, too.

There was a feeling tugging at him, telling him to go back down to Vexen’s lab and make sure Axel was alright. He didn’t, though, for the same reason he hadn’t stayed in the first place. There was a wall between them now, as much as he hated to admit it. How could there not be, with no hearts to feel with? It was futile trying to fake it – hanging out together like old times, as Axel had tried to suggest the other day, was pointless. Saïx’s attention was focused on recapturing what they’d lost the only way he knew how – by getting their hearts back.

_So why isn’t Axel doing the same?_

It had long been a point of contention for Saïx, and the events of the last few days had only added fuel to the fire. All the time Axel spent with Roxas and Xion – for what? Saïx couldn’t help feeling like Axel had lost sight of the goal they had once shared – that his priorities had shifted, and Saïx had fallen by the wayside.

And now, today – Saïx was angry that Axel had been foolish enough to get himself so badly hurt, angry at himself for sending Axel on a mission beyond his capabilities, angry at Axel for not focusing enough on his training, angry at himself for caring so much, angry that—

Saïx realised with a start that the first few rays of the sun had started to stream in through the window, and he scrubbed at his face with his hands, exasperated.

He hoped Axel had slept better than he did.


	2. Endeavour

**Day 76**

When Saïx entered the room at 7 o’clock, Axel had long since given up on sleep, the ache in his muscles and the icy chill of Vexen’s lab having kept him up for most of the night. Saïx didn’t say much, but that suited Axel just fine, too tired to form a coherent thought. Instead, Axel sat bleary-eyed, following Saïx’s instructions without really taking them in. Axel wasn’t hungry, but Saïx had brought him a slice of toast, so he ate it mindlessly, barely registering the taste. Axel didn’t like tea, but Saïx had brought him a cup, so he sipped at it slowly, glad for the warmth if nothing else. Saïx handed him a Panacea, and he drank it without even asking what it was. He sat in silence as he was poked and prodded with some of Vexen’s equipment, before Saïx declared that everything was in order and he was permitted to spend the rest of the day resting in his own room.

The day passed in a blur. Axel spent the hours lying in bed, drifting in and out of sleep. It wasn’t until early evening that he began to feel more like himself, the fog of exhaustion lifting enough to sit up in bed and gaze blearily around the room. There was a plate at his bedside with a half-finished sandwich that he couldn’t remember eating. He thought someone might have stopped by at some point, and his mind brought forth images of Roxas and Xion standing by the bed, their faces tight with worry, quietly asking him how he was feeling, if he’d slept alright. The picture in his mind’s eye was hazy, and he wasn’t sure whether it was reality or just a chapter from a dream.

Axel almost missed the fog of exhaustion. Now that he could think coherently again, the memories of the night before came flooding back, bringing with them a sense of shame so strong he felt it physically, like a punch to the gut and a blow to the chest. Saïx was angry, exasperated. Roxas and Xion were worried, even scared. His mind brought forth Saïx’s cold words – in Vexen’s lab last night, in the Grey Area days before. Castle Oblivion – Vexen, Zexion, Naminé. A faraway vision of Isa, sat close to him, laughing. The memories poured in like a torrent of dismay, and Axel thought for a moment he might drown in it.

_“I would advise you to be mindful of your priorities.”_

Those were the words that stood out the most. After everything, Axel couldn’t help wondering if maybe Saïx was actually right; maybe something did need to change. If Saïx had his own priorities all sorted though, it was clear that Axel was not at the top of the list.

He hadn’t shown up all day.

* * *

_“How are you feeling?” Isa whispered, nudging Lea’s elbow with his own. Isa felt a pair of eyes land on him and glanced up at the front of the classroom to check that they didn’t belong to their teacher._

_“I’m so_ hot,” _Lea groaned, loud enough that this time the woman at the front of the classroom really did turn to face them. They lowered their heads over their workbooks in an effort to be less conspicuous. “But then, I guess you already knew that.”_

_To Isa’s chagrin, Lea wasn’t so unwell that he couldn’t manage to wink at him._

_“How do you manage to be so unbearable even when you’re sick?”_

_“Natural talent. Couldn’t stop it even if I wanted to.”_

_“Could you_ try? _You put half the energy you spend winding me up on getting better and you’ll be cured within an hour.”_

_Lea started to respond, but the words caught in his throat, coming out instead as a hacking cough that made Isa cringe._

_“Jeez, just go home. I mean it in the nicest possible way when I tell you you look like you’re about to die.”_

_“I suppose school is no place to be spending my final moments.” Lea raised his hand. “Can I go to the office? I don’t feel well.”_

_There was no reason for her to question it; the pallor of Lea’s skin and the sheen of sweat on his face was proof enough that this wasn’t another of his usual schemes. “You may.”_

_Isa scraped his chair back in tandem with Lea, and their teacher looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Isa? Where are you going?”_

_He waited until he was almost out the door to answer, speaking with an air of finality that was wholly inappropriate to be using on a teacher._

_“I’m taking Lea home.”_

* * *

**Day 77**

Axel could feel it as soon as he walked through the door; the weight of every pair of eyes in the room immediately falling on him. News travelled fast in the Organisation, clearly. It’s not as though there was ever much else to talk about.

He made a point of meeting every single gaze as he strode forwards, staring them down until they had the good grace to look away. It didn’t work on Xigbar, who had simply grinned back, good grace having never been one of his strong points. At least he only had one eye to stare with.

Saïx summoned him up last of all, and for once, Axel was grateful for his behaviour. There was a look on Saïx’s face that said he was itching to make his thoughts known, and if that were the case, an audience was the last thing Axel wanted.

“Here.” Saïx handed over the mission papers, looking him up and down as though appraising his condition.

“What’s this?” Axel asked, scanning the papers. “This is— this is just busywork. This is the kind of stuff you give to _Demyx_.”

“I was unsure whether you would be up to anything more demanding.”

“You could have _asked_ me,” Axel answered. “Too busy yesterday to drop by and ask how I was?”

Saïx sneered. “You had your little fan club there already. I would hate to intrude.”

“If you’d asked them to leave, they’d be gone before you’d even finished clicking your fingers. We both know how much you love throwing your weight around round here. Did you know they’re actually _scared_ of you?”

“That’s no concern of mine.”

Axel’s eyes flashed with anger, the papers Saïx had handed him now a crumpled ball in his fist. “Can you hear yourself? You’re spending too much time with Xemnas. You get more like him every day.”

A flash of emotion crossed Saïx’s face so quickly that Axel wasn’t able to determine what it was. He didn’t reply straightaway, simply opened his binder and flicked through the pages at great speed, until he finally landed on the one he seemed to be looking for.

“Since you’re feeling so much better, perhaps this would be more suitable,” Saïx said, offering the page to Axel.

“Shove it.” He didn’t bother taking hold of it – he could tell from a glance that it was wildly inappropriate, the kind of mission that Saïx saved specifically as a punishment. “I’m not taking your penalty missions. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Haven’t you? Perhaps if you spent less time lazing around with a couple of _children,_ you wouldn’t have spent the last two days in bed licking your wounds.”

Axel snatched the paper from Saïx’s hand and hastily pulled open a Dark Corridor.

“Congratulations. You’ve managed to make this conversation even less appealing than your punishments.”

* * *

**Day 93**

Everything was exactly the same as it had always been, and yet the days felt so different. Axel was busier now, perhaps the busiest he’d been since he’d joined the Organisation, but it wasn’t the chaotic kind of busy he was used to; it was the kind that came from careful and deliberate planning. It was a way of life that was unmistakably _Saïx –_ the schedules, the routines, the actually getting some work done, for once (a rather unpleasant shock, after so many years of taking every available opportunity to bunk off). Saïx’s warnings about _priorities_ had left more of an impression than he’d ever actually admit to, and now he was acting on those words – even if partially out of spite. It wasn’t like Saïx was around much to notice though; part of the charm of it all was that he could schedule his days in a way that meant that he would be running into Saïx as seldom as possible.

There was a sense of satisfaction in the intensity of it all – in the feeling of knowing he was making progress with each day, of distancing himself further and further from his failed mission all those weeks ago. But there was so much more thinking and so much more doing, and the consequent ache in his muscles was a constant reminder of his own physicality. It felt foreign, and it had him stealing glimpses at himself in the mirror, almost apologetically, expecting to see the feeling reflected back in some way. The image looked just the same as it always had, though. The disconnect was oddly jarring.

Friday rolled round fast.

Everyone tended to eat together on Friday nights, a long-standing tradition that no one seemed to remember the origin of when Roxas had asked about it during his first week in the Organisation. Axel got to the kitchen a little later than he should have, having squeezed in another combat session before dinner. It was obvious that he’d arrived in a rush; his cheeks were still flushed from the heat of his shower, and from the looks of things, he hadn’t had the time to run a brush through his hair.

“Hey, Axel,” Roxas greeted. “We saved you some food. Demyx kept threatening to eat your share.”

“If you’re late again, I’m not giving it up so easy!” Demyx called from further down the table, mouth audibly full.

Axel made the conscious decision to ignore Demyx and slipped into the seat opposite Roxas and Xion. Saïx sat at the head of the table, next to Axel and Roxas, but had brought a stack of papers with him to dinner – as per usual – and was clearly unable to tear his attention away from them for long enough to say hello.

“Thanks,” Axel replied, pouring himself a glass of water and downing it in one.

Roxas watched him with a bemused expression, seeming to notice Axel’s dishevelled appearance. “You, uh, okay?”

“I’m good,” Axel responded, refilling the glass. “A lot of work today, that’s all.”

“Your hair can be quite… interesting, when it wants to be, can’t it?” Xion said, studying his messy hair curiously.

Axel ran a hand over it in a move that would have looked self-conscious on anyone else, trying to flatten the more aberrant spikes. “Sure, if by ‘interesting’ you mean ‘devilishly handsome’”.

Roxas snorted. “Pretty sure that’s not what she meant.”

“Roxas, forgive me if I don’t take style advice from a guy with a permanent case of bedhead. I gotta introduce you to this great new invention sometime; it’s called a _hairbrush_. Got it memorised?”

Roxas tried to give Axel a playful kick to the shin, but Saïx jumped in his seat, and Roxas paled as he realised he’d missed. Saïx looked up from his papers at last and whipped his head towards Roxas, glaring.

“Uh, sorry, Saïx,” Roxas said. “I was aiming for Axel.”

Xion clamped a hand over her mouth to hold back a snigger.

“Perhaps, Number 13, if you have so much energy to spare, it might do you good to burn some off,” Saïx stated, looking Roxas straight in the eye.

“Oh, uh, I don’t think—”

“Tomorrow morning, seven thirty, Hall of Empty Melodies. I’ll have a Challenge Mission set up. Don’t be late.”

With that, Saïx cast his eyes back to the sheet of paper he was holding, and Axel smirked at Roxas with a look that said _serves you right_.

It took a few moments for the implication to sink in. Axel had grown used to spending the first part of his mornings in the Hall of Empty Melodies; to taking his frustrations out on the gaggles of Dusks that gathered there. Frustration was in no short supply at the moment; not after a night spent tossing and turning under the ceiling that made his skin crawl.

“Saïx,” Axel said. Saïx sighed and looked up from the paper again. “Come on. It was just an accident. Is all that really necessary?”

“Yes.” Saïx’s tone of voice said that the conversation was over, and he began gathering up his stack of papers as though he was preparing to leave.

“It’s just…” Axel continued. “I was gonna be doing some training with the Dusks tomorrow morning. Might not work great with the both of us there.”

Saïx fixed him with a look that he hated, the one that made him feel as though he was reading his mind. “Hm? Why is that?”

Axel suddenly felt embarrassed, although he wasn’t sure why. “In my pursuit of world peace. Why d’you think?”

Saïx continued to look at him for a few seconds, and Axel shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “It’s good to see that you’re focused. However, one morning off won’t be detrimental.” Saïx stood and picked up the pile of papers. “Number 13, seven thirty tomorrow.”

Saïx strode out of the room before either Roxas or Axel had chance to protest.

“Thanks a lot, Axel,” Roxas said sarcastically, resting his chin in one hand with a defeated expression.

“Sorry, man,” Axel replied. “Although, you did kind of bring it on yourself.”

Roxas kicked lightly at Axel’s shin, and this time he didn’t miss.

* * *

_“Want the rest of my ice-cream?”_

_Several drops of blue fell to the ground as Isa waved the stick in Lea’s direction._

_“Huh? You don’t want it?” Lea cast Isa with a look of such deep confusion that Isa may as well have been speaking in tongues._

_“Nah. It’s too cold for ice-cream today. Besides, you need it more than I do.”_

_“How d’you work that one out?”_

_Isa turned to look Lea in the eye, grinning wickedly. “You’re shorter than me.”_

_The smug look on Isa’s face suggested he knew exactly which button he was pushing, and he ducked out of Lea’s way pre-emptively, having been on the receiving end of his wrath for making such comments before._

_Isa wasn’t fast enough, and Lea gave Isa a shove that, while intended to be playful, was so hard it very nearly sent him toppling him into the fountain._

_“Watch it!” Isa gasped, head inches from the water, one hand on the floor of the fountain to keep himself from falling in entirely. He righted himself with one good push and turned to glower at Lea, the ends of his hair wet and bedraggled from dangling into the water. It dripped to the floor, slowly, falling into the drops of ice-cream already spattering the stone, blue on blue. Lea was so enraptured by the sight that it took him a moment to notice that Isa was glaring._

_“Hey, don’t go giving me that look. You were asking for it, and you know it,” Lea said._

_Isa didn’t reply, unable to deny it. He watched in resigned silence as Lea leaned over and grabbed the half-eaten ice-cream from his hand._

_“I don’t know how you can do that,” Isa said, grimacing. “Not after I’ve been licking it.”_

_Lea shrugged, managing not to look the slightest bit bothered as he bit into Isa’s ice-cream. “What’s the big deal? People swap spit all the time. It’s only like kissing, right?”_

_The mention of kissing was so unexpected that Isa nearly fell into the fountain all over again. Unable to think of a response that wouldn’t result in him lying in bed that night burning with embarrassment, he dissolved into a coughing fit that was entirely self-induced, the first excuse he could think of for not replying._

_Lea watched on, looking faintly amused, until Isa’s poorly executed fake coughing had finally come to a stop._

_“Hey.” Lea bumped his shoulder against Isa’s, and Isa lifted his head to meet his gaze. “What did they used to call this back in seventh grade? An indirect kiss?”_

_Isa whipped his head away from Lea’s, turning around so he was staring into the bottom of the fountain. The back of Lea’s hair was reflected in the water, and Isa noticed with a deep embarrassment that didn’t at all help matters that the reflection of his face was nearly matching in colour._

_“Lea?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Shut up.”_


	3. Dislocation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: physical injury

**Day 94**

With the Hall of Empty Melodies otherwise occupied, Axel woke up with a whole hour to kill. It felt strange to be annoyed about that – Axel didn’t think he’d ever in his life complained about anything that allowed him an extra hour’s sleep. This morning, however, there was an uneasy feeling in his chest that couldn’t be shifted with any amount of tossing and turning. Roxas was out there right now, training with Saïx in the Hall of Empty Melodies. Roxas, who had never returned from a mission with so much as a grazed knee. Meanwhile, what was Axel doing? Sleeping. Or, at least, trying to.

The memories of his failed mission all those weeks ago threatened to bubble to the surface again, and Axel ripped the covers off in response, not bothering to change out of his pyjamas before he put his coat on. There was nowhere to go and nothing to do, but it felt better to be going nowhere and doing nothing out in the hallways than under the bedsheets. Rather an hour of aimlessly wandering the corridors than an hour lying awake in bed, where the ceiling so reminiscent of Castle Oblivion still hung over him like a nightmare.

There were 550 steps from Axel’s room to the Grey Area. It was something he already knew, but he counted them again anyway. By the 100th step, he’d reach Roxas’ room. By 250, Saïx’s office. It didn’t take long for the scramble of memories to dull, crowded out by the steady count of step after step after step.

It was early enough for everything to be silent still, the hallways empty but for the sound of his weight hitting the floor.

2025 took him to the Hall of Empty Melodies. He’d ended up there entirely by accident, so focused on the sound his body made as it connected with the floor that he’d not actually realised where it was taking him. The doors, thick and heavy, were shut tight, but Axel could still make out the familiar clash of metal on metal emanating from within the room.

Axel was resolute that his body was acting entirely of its own accord when it pushed the door open just enough for him to slink inside.

It seemed as though whatever Saïx had planned for Roxas was almost at an end. The floor was covered with a thick layer of broken pottery, crunching under Roxas’ feet as he dodged and weaved. There were only a handful of Dusks left now, but Roxas’ strained breathing and sweat-slicked face suggested there had been plenty more to start with. Saïx stood silently in the corner, arms crossed and gaze fixed firmly on Roxas, so much so that he seemed to miss the dark look Axel shot him from across the room.

“Alright, Roxas!” Axel lifted himself off the wall as Roxas defeated the final Dusk, making his way towards the centre of the room. “Not bad for a first-timer.”

Roxas didn’t look up, doubled over and breathing hard. His hands pressed forcefully into his thighs, propping up his upper body and shaking with the effort of it.

“Roxas?” Axel edged closer and placed a hand on his shoulder. It was gentle, but Roxas’ knees buckled under the touch all the same, shards of pottery clinking as he sank to the floor.

“Sorry.” The word was forced out between deep shuddering breaths, barely enough time between them to fit the word in. “Just—”

Roxas’ voice cracked on the word, and he seemed to give up on finishing the sentence, dropping his head to his knees. Axel felt a twinge in his chest at the sight, finding himself dropping to his knees beside Roxas and draping an arm over his shoulders.

“Breathe,” Axel instructed, voice as soothing as he could manage at such short notice. He could feel Roxas’ shoulders shudder beneath his arm, and he had to resist the urge to draw Roxas in closer, pull him to his chest. What Roxas needed most was space to breathe, but all Axel wanted was to hold him tight enough to stop his small body from shaking.

The sound of pottery crunching under heavy boots drew closer, and Axel looked up to see Saïx walking towards them.

“Mission Duty begins in thirty minutes,” Saïx said. He watched the scene in front of him as though they were doing nothing more interesting than tying their laces. “I would advise you leave now if you wish to be on time.”

Roxas, breaths beginning to even out, pushed himself off the floor with shaking hands.

“Rox, you don’t have to do that.” Axel followed Roxas into a standing position, arm still wrapped protectively around his shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Roxas managed, gritted out between clenched teeth. “Just— Tough session. Needed a— a break.”

“I will reiterate,” Saïx cut in. “Thirty minutes. Late arrivals will not be excused.”

Roxas stepped out from under Axel’s arm and began to walk towards the door.

“Roxas, stop,” Axel called. “Saïx can’t punish you for being late, not when it was his fault. You think I’d sit back and let that happen?”

“How precious.” Saïx sneered, turning to look Roxas in the eye. It wasn’t often Roxas was fixed with the entirety of Saïx’s attention, and that alone was enough to send him stumbling out into the corridor before Axel had chance to protest.

“What are you playing at?” Axel asked, expression thunderous as he turned towards Saïx. He could feel heat in his hands, the kind that usually preceded the summoning of his chakrams, and it took several deep breaths to chase the feeling away. “Enjoy it? Pushing around someone half your size?”

Saïx looked Axel directly in the eye. “Actions have consequences. There is no more to it than that.”

“Actions? What _actions_? He barely touched you! We both know you’ve had far worse done to you, and you haven’t so much as raised a fucking eyebrow. This is some kind of— personal vendetta. What’s your _problem_?”

Axel’s voice shook with anger, but Saïx’s was perfectly level when he replied, the words clipped and controlled with calculated precision. “I know the two of you have forged somewhat of an… attachment, but I can assure you I’m not foolish enough to develop such personal relationships with the members of our Organisation, be they favourable or otherwise. My response would have been the same regardless of the face behind it.”

“Yeah? What if it’d been me? Would you do the same thing to me?”

Axel grabbed hold of each of Saïx’s shoulders and shoved, sending Saïx stumbling backwards, caught off guard.

“Well?” Axel continued. “What do I get for that?”

“Don’t look for a fight you can’t win,” Saïx snarled, closing the gap between himself and Axel until their faces were only inches apart.

“I’m not looking for a fight,” Axel replied, eyes dark. “I’m showing you how full of shit you are.”

Axel took a step back from Saïx, fists restless at his sides. The close proximity made it all too tempting to raise one to Saïx’s face, to crack it open and finally see some semblance of emotion come trickling out of the wounds.

“Such histrionics, for a child you’ve known all of five minutes. It’s absurd.”

“You know what’s ‘absurd’? You, going out of your way to make him miserable. What is it? What’s he done that’s shoved that stick up your ass?”

Saïx broke eye contact with Axel for just a second, before returning his gaze with an intensity that almost made Axel flinch.

“He is a means to an end, and nothing more. I have no reason to respect him.”

Axel lunged forward before he even realised what he was doing, raising his right hand in a fist clenched so tight he could feel the sharp sting of fingernails cutting into his palm. It happened so fast that there was no chance for Saïx to react; Axel landed his fist at the junction of nose and eye socket, striking the bone with a sickening crack.

For a moment, no one spoke. Axel’s eyes never left Saïx’s face, watching for the mask to slip, for some semblance of emotion to peek through the cracks. He didn’t care if that was anger or hurt or all-out _ruin;_ he just wanted _something,_ some sign that Saïx had still retained a small shred of his humanity, that this wasn’t just an empty shell with the gall to wear the face of his oldest friend. But Saïx’s head remained bowed towards the floor for several seconds, and when his gaze finally lifted, there was nothing to see on his face except for the beginnings of a black eye.

And then, something changed. Saïx’s face never cracked, but the rest of him did.

It happened so quickly that Axel barely had time to process what was going on; before he knew it, his head slammed to the ground, the shards of pottery that still lay covering the floor clinking beneath him. He could feel warmth running over his face where their sharp edges had broken the skin on his scalp. But far worse was the pain in his shoulder, utterly excruciating and preceded by a sickening _pop._

A few seconds later, the pain had subsided enough for him to open his eyes. Saïx was knelt on the floor next to him, hair tousled and breathing hard. The skin around his eye was already beginning to darken, the same purple as the teardrop tattoos under Axel’s own; a matching pair.

“I—” Saïx’s voice was rough, in a way that Axel had never heard before. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what became of me.”

Saïx reached for his arm, so slowly that Axel might have laughed at him had he not been in so much pain. His hand was shaking; the sight was so unexpected that Axel couldn’t tear his gaze away from it, eyeing it warily as though it must be some kind of trap.

Saïx’s fingertips had barely brushed the skin of his shoulder, but Axel cried out in pain at the contact, the kind of sound he would have been embarrassed to have made under different circumstances, the kind of sound that Larxene would have mocked for weeks on end had she still been around to hear it. Saïx withdrew his hand as though he’d just touched boiling water.

“I’m sorry.”

There was that word again. It felt so alien hearing it from Saïx’s mouth.

“Yeah?” Axel pushed himself up into a sitting position with his uninjured arm, so he could look at Saïx properly when he spoke. “For?”

“I took things too far. It was… a momentary lapse in judgement.” Saïx eyed Axel silently for a moment, hands hovering awkwardly above Axel’s arm as though unsure what to do with them. “Allow me to get you something for it.”

Saïx went to push himself up off the floor, but he stopped when Axel spoke. “Wait.”

“Yes?”

“What about everything else? You gonna apologise for that too?”

Saïx pressed his lips into a thin line. “If you’re referring to my views of Number 13, I stand by what I said.”

If Axel’s arm had been even slightly functional, he would have put a fist to Saïx’s face all over again. As it was, he stood up from the floor and made his way to the door, injured arm hanging limply at his side.

“I can fix it myself.”

“Stop,” Saïx said, following Axel to the door. “You’re being obstinate. There’s no reason for it.”

“You know exactly what the reason is.”

Despite Saïx’s sleepless nights and heavy workload, Axel had never seen him look anything other than perfectly neutral; he seemed to float through the Organisation utterly unaffected by anything. But now, for the first time, Saïx looked tired.

Axel wondered if it was just because of the black eye.

“This is an issue we will never see eye to eye on, and there is little to be achieved from dwelling on it.”

Axel rolled his eyes, relishing the fact that it would cause Saïx a great deal of pain if he’d tried the same thing.

“However,” Saïx continued, “I am willing to admit that my actions today may have been… out of proportion.”

“So you won’t do it again.”

“…Not without good reason.”

Axel sighed, running a hand through his hair with his uninjured arm. “Fine. I’ll draw a line under it, but you’d better make good on what you said.”

“I will. On one condition.”

“What?”

Saïx pushed the door to the hallway open, the clanging of the metal as he did echoing throughout the room. He didn't turn around when he replied, and Axel got the impression he was explicitly avoiding his gaze.

“Let me fix your shoulder.”

* * *

Saïx had returned from Vexen’s lab ten minutes ago, two glass bottles of Panacea clinking together as he carried them under his arm. He’d handed one to Axel and downed the other himself, sitting in silence while they waited the advised ten minutes for the analgesia to take full effect.

Saïx didn’t warn him before starting. He simply got up and wrapped a hand around Axel’s wrist, pushing it backwards so his arm was bent at the elbow. It had been a long time since Axel had last felt Saïx’s skin against his own; he’d almost forgotten the coldness of Saïx’s hands, the softness of his skin against his own calloused fingertips. Axel glanced at Saïx’s face out of the corner of his eye, looking for a sign he was feeling just as awkward as Axel. As usual, his face was unreadable. He doubted he could say the same for his own, and he scrambled for something to say, something to draw Saïx’s attention from whatever his expression was betraying.

“It hurts like a bitch, you know, when it goes back in. I remember from last time. That day I fell off the fountain.”

“Yes, I remember. You made me hold your hand the entire time.”

Axel could swear he saw Saïx’s lips twitch ever so slightly, the phenomenon so fleeting he would have missed it had he blinked at the wrong moment. He glanced nervously at the empty bottle on the floor next to him, certain that the only explanation was that Saïx had given him something much stronger than a Panacea.

“Hey, nobody made you do anything,” Axel replied, tracing a finger over the label. “You held that hand of your own free will.”

“You were a pitiful sight. It seemed cruel not to.”

Axel grunted as Saïx placed his other hand on his elbow and began twisting his arm outwards. Although it hurt, Saix's movements were impossibly gentle; Axel felt a fluttering in his stomach that he told himself was due to the Panacea, and was definitely absolutely nothing to do with the softness of Saix's touch.

“Ah, don’t give me that. I reckon you lo—”

Axel’s shoulder exploded with pain as the joint suddenly popped back into place, and he choked on the end of his sentence. Saïx’s hands released his arm, but he could still feel the icy cold on his skin where Saïx’s fingers had wrapped around him.

“Thanks,” Axel muttered, rolling his shoulder experimentally. “Or, maybe not, actually. Since it was your fault it happened in the first place.”

Saïx would have raised an eyebrow if the swelling on his face had allowed him to. “You’re hardly blameless. The state of my face is proof enough of that.”

Axel shrugged. “Suits you.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before Saïx rose from the floor.

“I have to go. Mission Duty allocations. Take the day off, if you must.”

Axel grinned. “You know you’re a good twenty minutes late, right? What was it? ‘Late arrivals will not be excused’? If I were Roxas, I’d have a few choice words for you.”

Saïx hummed in response. “That is one good thing about him, I suppose. He gives me far less back talk than you do.”

“Won’t last,” Axel said, grinning. “I’m a bad influence.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for bearing with me while I took so long to update - I ended up deleting my first draft of the chapter and writing the whole thing again because it just wasn't right, but the kudos and the lovely comments people left really gave me the kick I needed to make it through to the other side, so I really want to thank the people who did that!!  
> 


	4. Whiskey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started out as two separate chapters, but I thought they worked better together. So, strap yourselves in, because it’s a long one
> 
> TW: physical injury, vague references to disordered eating behaviours, alcohol use

**Day 95**

Axel woke up feeling as though it had been a complete waste of time bothering to go to sleep in the first place. It was his own fault, he knew; all his training brought with it a fatigue that couldn’t be sated with only a couple of hours’ sleep. This was, however, a fact that Axel was actively choosing to ignore for the moment. Saïx’s warnings about priorities still lay heavily on his mind, and when Axel had given thought to the matter, sleeping had not made the cut. Unsurprisingly, after a lifetime spent treating sleep not as a necessity, but more as a beloved hobby, Axel’s body was not taking this new development well. Today in particular, it seemed to have turned its protests up a notch, and Axel found himself walking to breakfast in an uncharacteristically sour mood. Axel had never been renowned for his patience, but today it felt dangerously fragile; like an iced over lake cracked down the middle. 

Axel entered the kitchen with shoulders hunched, not bothering to cast the room his usual cursory glance to see if there was anyone else around; whoever was there, he was in no mood to talk to them today. Unfortunately, however, there were only a few seconds of precious silence before someone blissfully unaware took a step onto the ice.

“Good morning, Axel.”

Axel turned around from the counter unenthusiastically, to find Luxord sitting at the table, sipping tea.

“Morning, Luxord,” he muttered. Axel turned back around and cracked his eggs, doing his best to get the message across that he was in no mood for casual conversation this morning.

Luxord carried on obliviously.

“I haven’t spoken to you in a while. Saïx been running you ragged?”

“I’ve just been busy, I guess.”

“Hmm, you can certainly tell. Don’t work yourself too hard, now.”

Axel bristled a little. “What do you mean, ‘you can tell’?” he asked, turning back around to face Luxord.

“Those bags under your eyes get any bigger and Saïx will be sending us on a mission to take them out.”

Axel felt his skin prickle with irritation, stabbing at his eggs emphatically with the spatula.

“Right.”

He hoped that would be the end of the conversation, but Luxord appeared still not to get the hint, and continued on. “You know, Xigbar and I were talking about getting a group together for a poker game this Friday. Xaldin’s keen. Might be just what you need.”

Axel set his plate of eggs down on the table with a clatter, as far away from Luxord as the seating arrangements allowed. “Thanks, but I’ve got plans.”

“Oh? They must be rather big plans to be missing a night like this. What are you doing?”

Axel gave his eggs an irritable stab with the fork, speaking with his mouth full. “Washing my hair.”

Luxord looked vaguely affronted, but before he could reply, the door swung open and Saïx strode in.

“Lord Xemnas has summoned us.”

Axel had to resist the urge to slam his head into the table in irritation.

“What, now?”

“Obviously.”

Axel shovelled the rest of his eggs into his mouth in one huge bite, then scraped his chair back abruptly and dumped his plate into the sink with a loud crash. He left without a word.

Saïx raised his eyebrows at Luxord. “A little early for you to be bickering, isn’t it?”

Luxord resumed looking affronted. “It was nothing to do with me. I barely said two words.”

* * *

Xemnas was late. Late to his own meeting. Axel was sure he was doing it on purpose. What kind of practical reason could there possibly be for Xemnas to be late? It was a power flex, clear and simple. Axel wondered if Xemnas secretly got a kick out of the dramatic entrances.

The soft buzz of quiet conversation filled the Altar of Naught. Roxas and Xion leant against the wall by Axel’s side, but Axel had long since tuned out of their conversation. His attention was focused somewhere on the other side of the room, where Saïx stood by himself, flicking absent-mindedly through his binder. The swelling around his eye had reduced significantly already, but the bruise there was impossible to miss, a large patch of mottled purple standing out dark and ugly against Saïx’s pale skin. Axel struggled to direct his gaze at anything else, the sight stirring a feeling in his stomach that he couldn’t put a name to.

After a while, Xigbar broke off from the main group, walking towards Saïx.

“Well, well,” Xigbar said. His voice had suddenly increased in volume, as though addressing the entire room. “That’s a bold new look, Saïx. Can’t say it does you any favours, though.”

Saïx looked up from his binder with all the enthusiasm of a child at the dentist. “You should reserve your opinions for those who ask for them.”

Xigbar barked out a laugh. “Touchy, touchy. Someone got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning. Or, perhaps,” Xigbar looked pointedly at Saïx’s eye, “fell out?”

Demyx drew closer, the volume of Xigbar’s voice having drawn his attention. “Whoa! That’s impressive!” Demyx leaned in close to Saïx’s face, inspecting the bruise with an awe-struck expression. Axel was honestly surprised Saïx didn’t swat him away. “How’d you get it? Was it a Heartless? Was it Xemnas? Was it _Sora_?”

“You give the guy way too much credit,” Xigbar responded, leaning against the wall next to Saïx. “Since when does Saïx get his hands dirty? Dude probably slipped in the shower or something. Ain’t that right?”

Xigbar nudged Saïx with his elbow, and Axel noticed Saïx’s grip on his binder become so tight that his knuckles turned white. Axel felt the feeling churn in his stomach again. Was it guilt? Or was it a twisted sense of satisfaction?

“Or maybe,” Xigbar continued, “it was something a little more… risqué? The throes of passion go a little too far? Don’t be shy, now.”

“If you’re so insistent on getting an answer, I would be more than happy to _show_ you how it happened,” Saïx replied, the threat evident in his voice.

Xigbar, not appearing the slightest bit phased, grinned. “Hey, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

The door to the area clicked open before Saïx had chance to respond, and silence immediately descended on the group as Xemnas strode to the front of the room.

Truth be told, Axel paid little attention to whatever Xemnas was saying. Kingdom Hearts something-or-other – the same old story. It wasn’t until Xemnas had wrapped up the meeting and walked over to Saïx that Axel really began paying attention.

“Number Seven. I don’t recall any mention of injuries in your reports to me, and yet, you appear to have sustained rather an impressive blow. I do hope you aren’t keeping secrets from me.” Unlike Xigbar, Xemnas had not raised his voice to draw the attention of the room; he spoke softly, voice low and laced with a warning that was intended for Saïx, and Saïx alone. Despite that, the room was silent, listening with rapt attention. Axel shuffled uncomfortably against the wall. A new feeling had settled in his stomach, and this was one was without a doubt a bad one.

“My apologies, my Lord. It was not my intention to keep it from you. It simply seemed too benign to trouble you with. It will not happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t.” Xemnas paused for a moment. “Well? What was the culprit? I don’t recall sending you on any Field Missions as of late.”

Xemnas spoke as though they were doing nothing more than exchanging pleasantries about the weather; the words poured out like water laced with poison – dangerous, but imperceptibly so. Despite that, there was not a single person in the room foolish enough to mistake Xemnas’ words for niceties. They knew Xemnas well enough by now.

Predictably, Saïx’s face never reacted, but Axel didn’t miss the subtle twitching of Saïx’s hand as he picked at the skin around his fingernails. It was a tell that Axel had known for years, the single chip in Saïx’s armour. His expression never faltered, but Axel knew that underneath it all, Saïx’s pulse was pounding hard. Axel wondered whether Xemnas had caught onto that yet. It wasn’t unlikely, considering that Xemnas was the person who Saïx spent most of his time with these days. Axel found himself hoping with a tinge of something that felt dangerously close to jealousy that this was something Xemnas was yet to realise; that it was something about Saïx that only Axel knew.

There was a moment of hesitation before Saïx responded to Xemnas’ question.

“These days, one must watch their back even within the walls of the Castle.”

A quiet murmur spread throughout the room as the other members realised the implication. Axel got the impression that Saïx’s words were not directed solely towards Xemnas, and the churning in his stomach tightened into a knot. When Saïx had left the Hall of Empty Melodies yesterday, Axel had been under the impression that they’d left things on a relatively positive note – he hadn’t realised Saïx would harbour resentment towards him. A terrible assumption, he realised now. If there was one thing Saïx was good at, it was holding a grudge.

“A disappointing performance from you, Number Seven. One that will not be without repercussions. I expect better from my Second in Command.” Xemnas’ lip curled. “See me in my office later.”

Xemnas strode back inside without another word, leaving a tense silence in his wake. Most of the members of the Organisation had received a dressing down from Saïx at one point or another, so seeing Saïx be on the receiving end for once was a bizarre display of role reversal. The atmosphere was bordering on awkward; for many, this was the most vulnerable they’d seen Saïx, and it felt oddly intrusive, less like simply witnessing a conversation and more like walking in on him in the shower.

The silence lasted several agonising seconds before Saïx broke it.

“Mission Duty begins in ten minutes.” He’d drawn himself up to his full height to speak, making fierce eye contact with anyone who dared look at him, but Axel’s eyes were firmly trained on the fingers still scraping discreetly at the skin on Saïx’s thumb. “Late arrivals will be punished.”

Saïx swept out of the room.

The moment the door shut, everyone seemed to burst suddenly to life.

“Alright, who was it?” Xigbar asked, looking positively gleeful. “Whoever it was, I owe you a drink.”

The room filled with noise, accusations being thrown about excitedly, until only a few moments later, Xigbar’s attention settled on Axel.

“Axel, you’ve been awfully quiet this morning. Something you’re not telling us?”

Axel crossed his arms. “Not in the mood, Xigbar.”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, a devilish glint in his eye as he drew closer, “that if it’s not us…”

Xigbar gestured to the main group that had formed in the room: himself, Luxord, Xaldin and Demyx.

“…then it must be one of you. And do correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think Pipsqueak 1 and Pipsqueak 2 have it in them to go throwing punches at the big bad boss.”

Roxas and Xion inclined their heads in unison, gazing up at Axel with wide eyes.

“It was you?” Roxas asked. “What— Why?”

There were too many reasons to give, none of which Axel was particularly keen on sharing with the group. After a moment’s hesitation, Axel settled for the simplest answer he could think of.

“Because he deserved it.”

Axel left.

* * *

The ceiling above his bed looked just the same as it always did. It felt the same, too – like a hand clutching at the place his heart was meant to be, tightening, _squeezing._ Even now, all these weeks later, the reminder of Castle Oblivion was no easier to stomach. Tonight though, Axel didn’t bother trying to avoid it. Instead, he allowed himself to stare; allowed his pulse to quicken, his stomach to ache. It couldn’t be worse than whatever Saïx had been subjected to, Axel was sure.

Axel wondered if Xemnas had pressed Saïx for the full details of his injury. If he had mentioned his name, then he should be expecting to be called to Xemnas’ office at any moment, in line to receive his punishment alongside Saïx. Xemnas was not one to stand idly by while his Organisation became fractious; Axel was sure he would be quick to punish anyone causing unrest within the ranks. A part of him hoped that Saïx really would tell Xemnas of Axel’s involvement. It felt wrong that Saïx was being punished for this, while all Axel had gotten out of it was a sore shoulder and a day off.

Axel had counted the ceiling tiles fifty times over by the time he realised no one was coming.

Saïx had protected him. He wished he felt relieved, but the knot in his stomach only tightened with guilt.

Axel got up off the bed and padded out into the hallway, headed for Saïx’s office. It was late enough now that Xemnas would have retired to his chambers, but still not quite late enough that Saïx would have stopped working. The ache in his stomach nagged uncomfortably, an unpleasant combination of stress and hunger. It felt wrong to concern himself with something as trivial as dinner when there was so much else to think about, things that ought to take much higher priority after a day like this. He wasn’t sure how much he could have eaten anyway; the knots in his stomach were tight and unrelenting.

There was no answer when Axel knocked on Saïx’s door.

He was about to try again when Xigbar emerged from further down the hallway, sauntering towards him wearing the very definition of a shit-eating grin.

“You’re out of luck,” Xigbar said, leaning against the wall next to Axel. “Your little friend’s been sent packing.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Axel asked, whipping round to look Xigbar in the eye. He may have only had one, but it shone with enough malice for two.

“Xemnas decided Saïx needed… a little vacation, if you will. Something to help freshen up Saïx’s skills. Since, y’know,” Xigbar tapped a finger under his eye, “it seems like he’s a little lacking.”

“So, what? He’s sent Saïx on a mission?”

“I guess you could call it that. He’ll be gone a few days, at least. Well…”

Xigbar pushed himself off the wall, his face twisting with malevolence.

“…Assuming there aren’t any… hiccups.”

* * *

**Day 100**

The knot in Axel’s stomach had stayed there the whole week, growing with each day that passed without any sign of Saïx’s return. He’d wondered, staring up at the ceiling above his bed, whether this is how Saïx had felt when Axel had gone to Castle Oblivion, or whether he really had been as indifferent as he’d seemed. It was so hard to tell whether Saïx’s stone-heartedness was all for show, or whether his cold exterior really did run right down to his core. It was so different to Isa – Isa, who had fought so hard to keep his feelings from his face, and who had lost spectacularly every time. Axel hadn’t known what the blush on Isa’s face had meant, but he’d always loved the sight of it.

He missed it, now more than ever.

It was already Friday, and Axel found himself picking half-heartedly at dinner once again.

“Ah, Axel.” Axel looked up from his plate at the sound of Luxord calling his name, peering down the table at him. “The offer still stands, if you fancy joining us for poker night this evening.”

Axel snorted. “After what you did to Dem at the last one? Nah, it’s a hard pass from me.”

“Ah, what a night,” Xigbar said with a smirk. “You don’t feel like trying to reclaim your honour, Demyx? I mean, after last time, the only way is up.”

Roxas turned to Axel, looking confused. “What happened last time?”

“Demyx, uh, suffered a pretty spectacular defeat,” Axel replied, shooting Demyx an apologetic look.

“Cried like a baby,” Xigbar chipped in, looking as though he was thoroughly enjoying the memory.

“I did not _cry_ ,” Demyx said indignantly, sitting up straighter in his seat. “You threw your drink at me and it _burnt my eyes_.”

Roxas looked equal parts horrified and fascinated. “Can I come?”

Luxord opened his mouth to reply, but Axel cut in first. “Absolutely no way in hell,” he said, fixing Roxas with a look that said he wasn’t kidding. “Rox, they will eat you alive.”

Roxas turned back to Luxord, but he only shrugged in response. Something about the look on his face told him that Axel was probably right.

“Well, Axel, if you change your mind, we’ll be in Havoc’s Divide from 8,” Luxord said as he stood to leave.

“Luxord, I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my time, but this will not be one of them.”

* * *

_Fuck._

He really hadn’t meant for the evening to turn out this way, and yet here he was, drunk on cheap whiskey and eating his words.

He’d passed by the door to Havoc’s Divide at 8:30, and something about the raucous laughter and clinking of glasses emanating from behind the door had drawn him in, a welcome distraction from the chaos of his thoughts. He’d known then that it was a bad idea, but God knows Axel was never short of those, and so he found himself taking a seat at the table, accepting a drink and a hand of cards. Now, it was 12am, and Axel was 5 glasses of whiskey in and 500 Munny down. He knew when to cut his losses and call it a day, and that time had definitely arrived.

Axel gazed at his reflection in the bathroom mirror blearily. His whole body was buzzing, a feeling of gentle warmth and quiet excitement thrumming through his veins. He felt warm and relaxed and _good_ , and it had been a long time since he’d come anywhere close to feeling any of those things.

Axel found himself standing outside his bedroom door without really remembering how he got there. He glanced around the hallway as he leaned against the wall, enjoying the feeling of cool metal on hot skin and the pleasant buzzing in his head. He felt relaxed, more so than he had in a long time. It seemed a shame to go to bed now and waste it.

Before he knew it, he was standing outside Roxas’ bedroom door, knocking fast and loud.

The door opened and Roxas blinked at Axel with bleary eyes, rubbing at them sleepily.

“Axel? What are you doing? You’re gonna wake everyone up,” Roxas grumbled, voice thick with sleep.

“Just came to see my best bud,” Axel replied.

“At…” Roxas turned to check his clock. “ _One in the morning?_ ”

“Yep. Friendship has no curfew, Roxas,” Axel replied matter-of-factly, leaning further into the doorway. “So are you gonna let me in, or are we hanging out in the hallway tonight?”

Roxas walked back into his room without bothering to reply and sat on the bed looking distinctly confused. Axel followed him in and threw himself down next to Roxas, sprawling out on his back and gazing upwards so that Roxas looked upside-down. He could have sworn there’d been something he’d wanted to say to Roxas, but the whiskey in his bloodstream had diluted the thought to the point he could no longer remember. He gazed up at Roxas blearily instead.

“What are you doing here, Axel?” Roxas asked after a moment of silence. “Not that it’s not nice to hang out, but you did kind of wake me up. And you’ve still not apologised for that, by the way.”

“Roxas, I offer you my most humble apologies. However,” Axel pushed himself up so he was sitting cross-legged. “I can’t accept full responsibility for my actions. I’ve drunk a lot of whiskey.”

“Oh,” Roxas said, the pieces finally clicking into place. “You’re drunk.”

“Probably.”

Roxas reclined against the pillows, getting the impression that Axel had no intention of going anywhere any time soon. A companionable silence settled over them as Axel played with a loose thread on Roxas’ pyjamas.

“Hey, Axel?”

“Yeah?”

Roxas paused. There was a question Roxas had had for a while, but one that he’d known Axel would never normally answer. He felt a little guilty to be taking advantage of Axel’s lowered inhibitions like this, but not enough to keep him from asking. The revelation today that Axel had somehow managed to land a punch on Saïx and live to tell the tale had only burgeoned Roxas’ curiosity.

“What’s the deal with you and Saïx?”

Axel shrugged. “There’s no deal.”

“You seem closer to him than you do to the others, though.”

Axel snorted. “Doesn’t mean a whole lot. The bar’s pretty low.”

“Are you friends?”

This time, there was a moment of hesitation before the reply. “…I’m not sure.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s more complicated than that. It’s more complicated than— than friends.”

Roxas fidgeted against the pillows, visibly frustrated. “I don’t understand.”

Axel scrubbed at his face with his hands. “Look, Roxas, the Saïx that you know… I don’t like him any more than you do. But me and Saïx go way back. I know it’s hard to imagine, but back when he was a Somebody… Things were different. He was… something pretty special. It’s still in there somewhere. You can’t just lose something like that.”

“Oh.” Roxas didn’t know what else to say. The revelation that Axel had known Saïx before the Organisation had brought forth a torrent of unanswered questions, but the atmosphere in the room had shifted, and it no longer seemed like a good idea to ask. Roxas wished he could take his questions back, actually. He guessed there was probably a good reason why Axel didn’t normally like to talk about the past, and that was evident in the awkwardness of the silence that now stretched between them.

Roxas broke it with the first thing that came to mind.

“He’s back now. Did you know?”

Axel’s eyes had been half closed, eyelids heavy with inebriation, but they suddenly snapped wide open at Roxas’ words.

“What? How do you know?”

“I saw him in the hallway after dinner. He looked pretty bad.”

Axel sat up straighter. “I should go see him.”

“What? Now?”

“No time like the present.” Axel got up off the bed, staggering slightly.

“Axel, I’m not sure that’s a good idea—”

“Roxas, you know what I tell you practically everyday, to _relax_? It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Uh, Axel, what if it’s not? It’s the middle of the night. He’s probably sleeping. I’m not sure Saïx will take being woken up as well as I did—”

“He won’t be sleeping.”

“ _Axel—”_

He’d already left.

* * *

Axel was right when he’d said that Saïx wasn’t sleeping. He was right where Axel knew he would be – standing in the Addled Impasse, staring out of the window with his binder cradled to his chest. It was clear he hadn’t expected company; Axel could see it in the way his stance had relaxed, the way his face had softened. His skin looked almost luminous in the moonlight, and for one brief moment of drunken disinhibition, Axel wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch it. It was not Isa in front of him, but in moments like this, it was all too easy to pretend.

“You never told me you were leaving.”

Axel watched as Saïx’s demeanour changed in an instant, his body stiffening, his face recast into hard lines. He swallowed hard. The man in front of him was once again more Saïx than Isa.

“I wasn’t exactly given much time to prepare,” Saïx said. He didn’t turn away from the window, and Axel got the impression he was purposely avoiding his gaze. “I can tell you’ve been drinking,” Saïx continued, his tone sour. “You should go. I have nothing to say to you, least of all in a state like this.”

Axel didn’t respond. No longer distracted by the resemblance to his past self, Axel suddenly realised just how poor a condition Saïx was in. The bruise around his eye was beginning to fade now, dark purple having given way to an unflattering shade of yellow, but several fresh ones now littered his jaw, his wrists. Axel wondered how many others were hidden beneath his coat; whether he had sustained any injuries more serious. A large gash at his temple lay open and raw, a line of burgundy running underneath where a trail of blood had been left to dry. Axel had the impression that Saïx had come straight here on his return; there was little chance he would allow Xemnas to see him in such a state of disarray.

“Where’ve you been?” Axel asked, ignoring Saïx’s instruction entirely. “What did he make you do? You look—” Axel struggled through jumbled thoughts to find the right word, but it never appeared. “Are you… okay?”

“There is no need to bother with the pleasantries,” Saïx said, facing Axel at last. “You were hardly concerned about my wellbeing when you were giving me _this_.”

Saïx gestured a hand towards the fading bruise around his eye.

“I already said I was sorry,” Axel said. “And I _am_.”

“Empty words from a drunken mind.” Saïx turned back towards the window. “I asked you to leave.”

“Can I at least help?” Axel asked, walking closer. “You fixed me up the other day. Let me repay the favour.”

“I don’t need your help,” Saïx said, taking a step back to distance himself from Axel. He let out a hiss of pain, caught off guard as though, for a moment, he’d forgotten he was hurt, and nearly stumbled over on what was clearly an injured leg.

Axel reached out instinctively to catch him before he fell, a hand grabbing for his arm. Saïx flinched away, fast and sharp, as though expecting something entirely more sinister. The sight made Axel’s chest feel hollow.

“You don’t have to do that,” Axel said, his voice quiet. “I’m not gonna do it again. No matter how much you deserve it.”

“Spare me. I’ve seen where your loyalties lie. The mark on my face is proof enough of that.”

“I—” Axel stumbled over the words, head swimming too much to formulate the defence he wanted to make. “Can we just stop? I didn’t come here to argue. I just— I just wanted to see you.”

Saïx barked out a laugh. “What a novelty! Perhaps you might have seen more of me if you didn’t spend so much time running around with a couple of children.”

Axel narrowed his eyes, gripping the windowsill with more force than was necessary to keep himself upright. “ _You_ were the one who said spending time together was pointless. _You_ were the one who said there were more important things to do.”

“And I expected you to _do_ them, not find new ways to neglect your duties. Is it really the same, when you talk to the puppet? Is the time we spent together that easy to imitate?”

Axel took a sudden step forward. “Don’t _talk_ about her like that. She’s a person, with a _name._ ”

“A Nobody has no Heart to feel with,” Saïx continued, “No matter how much you refuse to believe it. All of these make-believe friendships will serve you no purpose.”

“I don’t think that’s true anymore. Can you honestly say you don’t miss me?”

Axel spoke calmly, but there was an intensity to the words, as though he were willing Saïx to believe him. For a second, their gazes met, and Saïx could read the ferocity in Axel’s eyes even behind the heavy eyelids and bloodshot sclerae that came from a night of drinking.

The moment was short-lived; only a few seconds had passed when Saïx turned his attention back towards the window. He stood in silence for what felt to Axel like a lifetime, hesitation visible on his face, lips half formed into words that wouldn’t come out. One hand fidgeted at his side, picking distractedly at the skin around his fingernails.

“You’re drunk,” Saïx finally said, his voice lacking its usual assertion. “You should go to bed. Perhaps… this is something to discuss tomorrow.”

“This isn’t because I’m drunk!” Axel replied, feeling the last of his patience being sapped away. “This is something I’ve been thinking about for— for weeks, ever since I got back from Castle Oblivion, since Roxas told me he missed me—”

“This is _ridiculous_ ,” Saïx interrupted. That single sentence had seemed to alter Saïx’s whole demeanour, the hesitation in his voice now replaced with pure, unfiltered acid. “I expected more of you than to fall foul of these games of make-believe, and even worse, to attempt to involve me in them. What is it you want from me? What role am I meant to play, Axel?”

Axel, cheeks flushed crimson with alcohol and anger, opened his mouth to respond, but Saïx didn’t wait for an answer.

“Do you want me to lie and tell you I miss you? Do you want me to call you Lea, for old times’ sake? I don’t know how many times I have to tell you to sort out your priorities. This conversation is a complete waste of time.”

 _Priorities_. The word pierced into him like a thorn into a fingertip and stung in the same way. The whiskey in his bloodstream had made everything seem softer, fuzzier, but now the illusion seemed to shatter. It felt as though Axel had been looking at the world through a fogged up window, and now Saïx had come along and put a fist through the glass.

“Fine,” Axel said, pulling himself up straighter. “I won’t waste any more of your time.”

* * *

_“It’s tomorrow, right? When you leave?”_

_“Yeah,” Isa responded, picking a stick up off the ground and using it to poke half-heartedly at a nearby leaf. “Just for a few weeks. I’m sure it’ll go by fast.”_

_It was obvious that Isa didn’t mean it, but Lea struggled to think of anything reassuring to say. It’s not like he believed it would go by fast, either._

_“Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think,” Lea eventually replied._

_“Yeah, maybe,” Isa responded. He gave the leaf a particularly aggressive poke._

_Lea could tell that Isa didn’t believe him. If he did, he wouldn’t be taking his feelings out on innocent foliage._

_“What am I supposed to do when I’m away, anyway? Who am I supposed to make fun of? I’ll be hard pressed to find someone who’s even half the moron you are.”_

_Isa flashed Lea a look that said_ try me, _as though he were daring Lea to give back as good as he got._

_“I’m gonna let that one slide, and that one only. Any more and you’ll be getting a bruise as a parting gift,” Lea replied dryly, the words playful and warm and clearly in jest._

_“How nice. It’ll be a reminder of you for me while I’m away,” Isa responded, grinning._

_“Please. As if you’d ever need reminding of_ me.”

_Isa gave an exaggerated sigh, feigning exasperation. “That’s true. I have, unfortunately, got you memorised.”_

_“You dare use my own words against me?”_

_Lea raised his eyebrows in mock indignancy, but he couldn’t maintain the expression for more than a second. Isa had broken out into a smile, and Lea couldn’t help but return it. Isa hadn’t been doing much of that today; he’d missed it._

_“I really will miss you, you know,” Lea said, expression suddenly becoming serious._

_Isa looked anywhere but Lea’s face, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. “Ah, Lea, don’t get all sentimental on me now.”_

_“Sorry. Just saying.”_

_Isa resumed prodding at the leaf, more out of awkwardness than anything else. They sat like that for a few moments, until Lea spoke up again._

_“Are you saying you won’t miss me?”_

_There was a pause before Isa replied._

_“Lea, I miss you already.”_


	5. Side-Effects

**Day 101**

“Hey.”

Axel took a seat next to Roxas on the edge of the clocktower. April had not long since given way to May, and the gentle sunlight of early Spring was getting stronger with each passing day. He could feel warmth in the bricks when he sat, for the first time this year. Axel rolled the sleeves up on his coat, craving the soft touch of the sun on his skin. He wasn’t sure when the last time was that Saïx had felt the warmth of the sun; within the walls of the Castle, there was nothing but the cool light of the moon. He wondered if it might do Saïx good to spend more time in places like this, if the stone where his heart should be might warm in the sun just like the stones of the clocktower.

“You look awful.”

“Thanks, Roxas. You always know just what to say,” Axel said dryly.

Roxas didn’t bother to look apologetic, too focused on catching the drops of his melting ice-cream before they fell to the floor. “No ice-cream today?”

“I’m hungover, Roxas.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I drank too much and now I have to suffer.”

“Oh,” Roxas said, his expression still decidedly blank. “What does it feel like?”

“Death.”

Roxas wrinkled his nose. “Could you be a little more descriptive?”

“What do you want, a poem? Cut me a little slack, I’m dying here.”

“That’s not what I—” Roxas sighed. “Never mind.”

“Hey, uh, speaking of drinking too much… I thought I should say sorry for waking you up last night. Hope you didn’t lose too much sleep.”

“Nah, I didn’t mind.” Roxas finished off the last of his ice-cream and laid the stick on the floor. “Did you really go and see Saïx last night?”

Axel sighed at the question, laying his back against the warm bricks of the clocktower floor. A single bird circled above them, and Axel’s gaze followed it across the sky.

“Yep. What a terrible idea that was.”

“I’m really hoping you’re about to tell me you gave Saïx another black eye.”

Axel groaned. “Please don’t encourage me.”

He watched as the bird above them flew lower, black wings gliding across the gentle orange of the twilight, effortlessly, weightlessly. All of a sudden, he was keenly aware of the pull of gravity holding him against the hard stones beneath him.

Roxas spoke after a few minutes of gentle silence.

“Axel?”

“Yeah?”

“Is there something going on that you’re not telling me about?”

Axel turned his head so he could see Roxas’ face. He almost looked nervous, as though he’d been afraid to ask the question.

“What makes you think that?”

“It just feels like… something’s felt kinda different lately. And it’s been bugging me, because I can’t figure out what. But today, I think I realised what the feeling is. It feels like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

Axel turned his head away again, fixing his gaze back on the bird. “I dunno what to tell you, Rox. You know I’m not allowed to talk about everything that goes on in the Organisation. Some stuff’s classified.”

“I know that,” Roxas said wistfully. “So, there _is_ something going on?”

“No, Roxas. Right now, there’s nothing I’m not telling you. Got it memorised?”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Axel felt a pang in his stomach that had nothing to do with the hangover.

This one felt more like guilt.

* * *

**Day 107**

_“Don’t think for a minute I believed that.”_

_“Believed what?”_

_“That reprehensible performance.”_

Axel scowled. He wished there was something for him to scowl at, but the hallways of the Castle were as sparsely decorated as they always were. He couldn’t believe he was thinking this, but he hoped, against all of his better judgement, that he might run into Xigbar. If Axel needed something to direct his anger towards, that insufferably smug face of his would be _perfect._

It was the first time he and Saïx had spoken to each other all week. They’d seen each other only for missions, and even then, their interactions had been entirely silent. It was a breed of silence that Axel wasn’t used to; not an awkward silence, and most certainly not a comfortable one, but one that was tense and deliberate and fraught with antipathy. It had taken only a few days for the games to begin; the missions Saïx gave him were increasingly unpleasant, and Axel suspected he was looking for something so onerous that Axel would have no choice but to break his silence to complain. Axel had retaliated with equal force, turning up late to collect his missions, handing in barely legible reports with doodles in the margins that were decidedly unprofessional. Saïx had had no reaction other than to press his lips into a thin line; the papers were passed between them wordlessly, slow and careful, painstakingly avoiding the brushing together of their fingers.

At least now the silence had been broken, albeit by an entirely unpleasant conversation. He wasn’t even sure why it bothered him so much – unpleasant conversations with Saïx were nothing new by now. At this point, it was just another nail in a coffin that had long since been sealed shut. Still though, Axel felt a sickening sense of finality in it all. Saïx had told him outright – that he had other priorities, that he didn’t miss him, and that, worst of all, he wasn’t even capable of it. He wished he’d never talked to Saïx that night, wished he could go back to not knowing the truth.

Regret burned in his stomach like the cheap whiskey he’d drunk so much of.

* * *

**Day 110**

Axel had _felt_ like a Nobody, before. It was an ironic name really, when a body had been the only thing he’d actually had. Back then, there had been no feelings, no desires, no regrets. Even his memories had been weaker; faraway and difficult to reach. Things had been different, though, since Roxas had joined the Organisation. The feelings were dull, but they were most definitely there, and he could feel them growing with each passing day.

Not that you could tell from looking at him. The Axel that had gone to Castle Oblivion all those weeks ago seemed like an entirely different person to who he was now, but the reflection in the mirror looked just the same as it always had. The mirror didn’t show the aching of his muscles or the jumble of his emotions, but he could feel it. The mirror didn’t show the blood on his hands, but he knew without doubt that it was there.

Internally, Axel felt more like Lea than he had since he’d first joined the Organisation, but the image in the mirror was unmistakably Axel. It was a disconnect that seemed to be widening with each day that his feelings continued to return, and along with it, a growing sense of discomfort with the body that no longer seemed to represent him. It was for this reason that, when the door to his bedroom clicked open that evening without so much as a cursory knock, Axel appreciated the invasion of his privacy even less than usual.

He was only half-dressed when Saïx walked in, fresh out of the shower, torso bare and still slightly damp. A strangled sound that Axel was sure he’d never made before escaped from his throat as he scrambled for the sweatshirt lying on his bed, in such a rush to put it on that he found himself tangled in the fabric. Saïx watched the spectacle wordlessly, until after a few seconds of struggling, Axel managed to pull the sweatshirt over his body.

“Ever heard of knocking?” Axel asked, looking at Saïx with an expression that was positively venomous. He crossed his arms tightly over his abdomen as though he were afraid Saïx could somehow see through his jumper.

Saïx raised his eyebrows. “It’s not like you to be so shy.”

Something burnt in Axel’s stomach, and he couldn’t tell whether it was anger or embarrassment.

Maybe it was both.

“What do you want, Saïx?” Axel asked, eager to be rid of him as soon as possible.

“Tell me what Xion has been doing.”

 _Jesus Christ._ Of all the ulterior motives Saïx could’ve had for coming to see him, that was a pretty terrible one.

“How should I know? I’m not spying on her.”

“The two of you look pretty close.” There was an edge to the words that Axel hadn’t been expecting, but he was too angry to read too much into it.

“So what, now I gotta rat on my friends to you? I think you should just go.”

There was a moment of silence where Axel foolishly believed that Saïx was actually going to do what he said, but then Saïx spoke again, and Axel sighed in a show of exasperation that would have been undeniably rude under different circumstances.

“We also need you to go back to Castle Oblivion soon.”

“Yeah, fine, whatever. Is that it?”

“For now.” Saïx walked over to the doorway but didn’t leave, standing there for a moment with his back to Axel.

Axel was starting to think that Saïx was being purposely irritating at this point.

“Are you gonna stand there all night? If you think I’m inviting you in for a slumber party, you got another thing coming.”

Saïx turned back round. “Axel. At Castle Oblivion – take care of yourself.”

“Thanks for the advice. And to think I’d been planning on throwing myself into fires and playing with knives. Whatever would I do without you?” Axel replied, acid-tongued.

“I’m serious. If something goes wrong at Castle Oblivion, there’ll be no one there to fix you up like last time.”

Any mention of Axel’s critical mistake all those weeks ago still made him burn with shame, and it was all he could do to nod dumbly and mumble, “Right.”

“I mean it, Axel. You’ve been looking… overtaxed, lately,” Saïx said, eyes travelling down to where Axel’s arms were still crossed tightly over his sweatshirt. “I’m glad that you’re taking your role more seriously, but if you work too hard, you’ll burn yourself out.”

Axel rolled his eyes. “Are you still here?”

Saïx narrowed his eyes, but didn’t push the subject further. The door clicked shut softly behind him, and Axel felt his whole body slump with relief at the sound.

* * *

**Day 117**

“Ah, man,” Roxas said, dropping down onto the floor of the clocktower so suddenly that Axel was sure it must have hurt. “What a day.”

“Tricky mission?” Xion asked, already halfway through her ice-cream by the time Roxas had arrived.

“Tricky doesn’t even begin to cover it.” He leaned back against the floor with a groan. “I don’t think I even have the energy to go buy ice-cream today. It was that bad.”

“Nice try,” Axel said, nudging Roxas playfully with his elbow. “If you’re angling for a free ice-cream, you’re gonna have to think of a better excuse than _that_.”

“What?! I wasn’t—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Axel said, grinning. “Better luck next time.”

Roxas huffed and sat back up, turning to face Xion. “Xion? You’ll take pity on me, right?”

“Xion, don’t you dare—”

“Oh, alright.” Her expression was sympathetic as she stood to leave. “But just this once!”

“Xion, you’re a good friend,” Roxas said, giving Axel a pointed look.

Axel rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

“So. What happened on your mission?”

Roxas launched immediately into an animated recount of the day’s events, but Axel was only half-listening. Most of his attention was focused on the ice-cream in front of him, beginning to melt in the afternoon sun. He ate it drip by drip, catching each drop of melting ice-cream on a fingertip and sucking it off lackadaisically. It didn’t taste as good as it usually did.

“Uh, Axel? Hello?” Roxas waved a hand in front of his face. “Are you even listening to me?”

Axel jumped.

“What? Yeah. I mean, kind of. Sorry.”

Roxas sighed. “Are you okay?”

“Never better,” Axel replied, the rolling of his eyes evident in his voice.

Roxas shot Axel a look that was surprisingly discerning for someone who had once asked him whether an egg was a fruit or a vegetable.

“Are you sure? You do look kinda… out of it.”

“I’m _fine._ I’d be even better if you’d stop asking me that.”

Roxas continued looking at him with watchful eyes, and Axel shifted awkwardly under his gaze. He was reminded of the feeling he’d had when Saïx had walked in on him half-dressed the other night; of the feeling of someone seeing far too much of the body he felt so uncomfortable in.

_“Feel free to get your camera out. I might even sign the picture if you ask me nicely.”_

_Isa hastily averted his gaze, staring out at the horizon as though that’s where he’d been looking all along. “What are you talking about?”_

_“I can feel you staring at me. What is it? Like what you see, huh?” Lea turned to grin at him. Winding up Isa was an art that Lea liked to think he’d perfected._

_Isa scoffed, but his cheeks reddened slightly despite himself. “Don’t flatter yourself. I was just—You have something in your hair.”_

_“Is that the best you can come up with?” Lea responded, still smiling devilishly. “I know it’s hard for you mere mortals to tear your gaze from this work of art—”_

_Isa shoved Lea playfully. “Give me a break! What kind of work of art are_ you _meant to be? Picasso?”_

“ _Axel,_ are you not listening to me _again?_ ” Roxas asked impatiently.

Roxas’ voice tore him out of the memory. There was a small patch of blue near the hem of Axel’s coat, drops of ice-cream he hadn’t noticed melting.

Xion reappeared then, and Roxas broke back out into a smile as she handed him an ice-cream. Axel took advantage of the distraction to quickly change the subject.

“Oh, before I forget… I might not see you guys again for a little while.”

Roxas’ smile disappeared in an instant. “Huh? Why not?”

“They’re sending me out on recon for a few days.”

“To where?” Xion asked.

“Can’t tell. Classified.”

“But I thought we were friends,” Xion said, eyes shining with genuine confusion.

Axel did his best to ignore the pang of guilt in his stomach. “Hey, I’m not about to tell you _all_ my dark secrets. Got it memorised? I bet you keep a thing or two from me.”

The mention of dark secrets had brought Axel’s memories of Castle Oblivion to the forefront of his mind, and he regretted the words instantly.

_Vexen, enveloped in flames._

_Zexion, fading away in front of him._

_Naminé, gazing at Axel from Marluxia’s grasp, eyes shining with fear._

Axel gripped the edge of the clocktower tighter still, as though the memories were trapped in the stone and he could squeeze them right out if only he tried hard enough.

Roxas looked at him blankly. “I don’t have any dark secrets.”

“Ha, relax, would you? I’m kidding.”

Axel hated that he wasn’t.

* * *

When Axel heard the door to his bedroom slide open that evening, he didn’t bother looking up. The door had opened without so much as a knock, and there was only one person in the castle who had such a blatant disregard for _privacy._ Annoyingly, that was also the person Axel was least keen to see right now. Nowadays, a conversation with Saïx was never just a conversation – at best, it was a disagreement, and at worst, it was an outright _feud_. Axel didn’t have the energy to engage in one of their arguments today, and the fact that Saïx was apparently seeking one out made Axel’s skin prickle with irritation.

“Axel.”

Axel ignored him, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the t-shirt he was folding and hoping against his better judgement that Saïx had finally learnt to _take a fucking hint._

Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t.

Saïx walked over to Axel and sat next to him on the floor, watching silently for a few moments as Axel continued to fold the pile of clothes in front of him. Axel couldn’t help noticing that this was the closest they’d been to each other for a long time – if he leant just a couple of inches to the left, they’d be sitting shoulder to shoulder. An aberrant thought urged him to close the minuscule distance between them, and Axel hurriedly shuffled a couple of inches in the opposite direction, as though to prove to himself that he didn’t mean it. Nowadays, the distance between them was too big; there was no reason to be thinking thoughts like that anymore.

“You’re packing for tomorrow.”

It sounded more like a statement than a question to Axel, so he didn’t bother answering. Instead, he found his thoughts wandering back to Saïx’s shoulders. If he’d closed the distance between them, what would have happened? Would Saïx have pulled away? Or would he have let him? Maybe he would have shuffled closer still? Maybe he would have—

Axel forced his thoughts to a stop, irritated at himself. What was he _thinking?_

Axel hadn’t realised he’d been so wrapped up in his thoughts until the feeling of the t-shirt being tugged gently out of his hands brought him back to reality. He’d clearly carried on folding it while his mind had been absent, and Saïx was now shaking it out of the crumpled heap it had become and was folding it back up properly.

Axel sighed. “What do you want?”

“I came to see you.”

“Well, obviously.”

Saïx placed the t-shirt into Axel’s bag and started folding the next piece of clothing from the pile. Axel watched on suspiciously, unsure what exactly Saïx’s game plan was here.

“You’re going away tomorrow.”

“Gotta say Saïx, you’ve really gotten good at stating the obvious. You been practising?”

Saïx sighed, so quietly that Axel almost didn’t notice. “There’s no need to be so antagonistic, Axel.”

“If you don’t like it, you know where the door is.”

“I’m trying to have a civil conversation with you.”

Axel watched on as Saïx placed the last piece of clothing into the bag, perfectly folded into a neat little square. Saïx hesitated for a moment, as though searching for something else to busy himself with, and for just a fraction of a second, Axel thought he looked a little lost. Saïx quickly rearranged his expression into something more unreadable, but the brief moment of humanity weakened Axel’s resistance. Despite himself, Axel found his gaze settling on Saïx’s shoulder again, and he shuffled as subtly as could back towards Saïx, so they were once again no more than an inch apart.

“Fine. Go ahead.”

Saïx hesitated before he replied, as though he hadn’t expected to get this far. “How have you been?”

Axel didn’t know what he’d expected Saïx to say, but it definitely hadn’t been _that._

“You can’t seriously expect me to believe that you came all the way over here and did half of my packing just to ask me how I’ve _been_.”

Saïx bristled. “Don’t think you’re getting special treatment. It’s my duty to do this for everyone in the Organisation.”

“Oh yeah? When’s the last time you stopped by Xigbar’s room and asked him ‘how he’s been’?” Axel asked, making air quotes around Saïx’s question.

Axel was so close to Saïx that he could feel him tense up next to him.

“Some members of the Organisation need to be asked more than others.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

The atmosphere in the room seemed to shift abruptly, and Axel moved away from Saïx’s side, choosing instead to position himself opposite and look him directly in the eye.

“I’m—” Saïx cut himself off, as though he'd suddenly changed his mind about whatever he'd been about to say.

Axel raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”

He realised that his pulse was pounding loudly in his ears, but he wasn’t sure exactly why.

“You’ve been behaving… differently, for a while now. I thought at first it was because of your mission in Twilight Town—”

Axel averted his gaze, feeling anger give way to embarrassment.

“—but given that a significant time has passed now and you still seem to be out of sorts, I thought it would be appropriate to ask you how you’ve been.”

“What do you mean, ‘behaving differently’?” Axel asked, tone defensive.

“Don’t pretend.”

There was an edge to Saïx’s voice that made Axel feel uncomfortable. He had a way of speaking that could make him feel entirely transparent, as though he knew the inner workings of Axel’s mind, and Axel had to remind himself that actually Saïx didn’t have a _clue_ before he felt able to reply.

“What's your problem? We're not kids anymore, in case you hadn't noticed. I don't need you looking out for me. I can look after myself."

“See that you do. You’re of no use to the Organisation if you burn yourself out.”

Axel bristled. He felt oddly tricked; for a moment, he’d had the impression that Saïx was speaking from a place of genuine concern, and now he felt awash with embarrassment at the idea that he’d actually almost believed him. This wasn’t about him; this was about the Organisation, just like everything always was.

_Go fuck yourself._

He didn’t say it out loud. He didn’t want to give Saïx the satisfaction.

“I’m done with this conversation.”

“Axel—"

Axel stood and began aggressively opening and closing drawers, grabbing handfuls of whatever was inside and stuffing it in his bag with far more force than necessary. Saïx watched on from the floor, taken aback.

“Axel, when I spoke to you yesterday about your wellbeing… I will admit that it was the wrong time. I’ve come here today with no ulterior motives. I wanted to have a _civil_ conversation with you about this.”

“And how’s that going for you?”

Saïx sighed, frustrated. “You’re not taking any of this as seriously as you should be. This mission is _dangerous,_ and there will be no one there to fix things if it goes wrong. And if you don’t look after yourself, then it isn’t unlikely that things _will_ go wrong. That’s all I wanted to say.”

“Well since you’ve said it, I guess you can leave now.”

Saïx stood up and walked over to Axel, placing a hand on his shoulder. The touch was unexpected, and Axel froze at the contact, one hand still clutching the handle on the drawer. It was the shoulder that had been inches away from Saïx for most of their conversation, and the touch came almost as a relief; as though he’d spent all that time forcing two magnets apart, and now he was finally allowing them to click together.

“Think about what I said.”

There was a moment of silence. Neither spoke and neither moved, the air heavy with something they weren’t able to name. Saïx’s hand lingered on Axel’s shoulder, but when Axel didn’t reply, his hand reluctantly withdrew and Saïx exited the room without another word.

Axel spent the rest of the night thinking about one thing, and it was most definitely not what Saïx had _said_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wasn’t happy with the way this chapter turned out but nothing I did seemed to fix it, so I’m sorry if this was disappointing. The next couple of chapters are a bit of a turning point for the fic, and have a couple of my personal favourite scenes (so far) in them, so hopefully they'll make up for it!


	6. Exposure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written and rewritten this so many times but it's been a long week and I am done  
> TW: references to poor self-care (?)
> 
> (Axel’s character design in Days looks so much like he’s wearing eyeliner and this headcanon is the hill I will die on)

**Day 149**

It had been a long day. Dull and tedious and _achingly_ slow, as though the world had stopped spinning just to spite him. It had been hours since his pen had lifted from the paper, but it hadn’t moved for quite some time, hovering tauntingly over blank space. There was too much to think about; it was proving impossible to pick out any one thought and turn it into something coherent.

Saïx glanced at the clock on his desk, then quickly looked away - he’d checked the time so often today he was sick of the sight of it – then promptly repeated the process another five times, much to his own exasperation. It was as he found his eyes wandering towards the clock for a sixth time that he heard it: three firm knocks to his office door. Normally, Saïx did not react positively to interruptions, but after a day like today, the break from the monotony had him sighing with relief. No matter what was on the other side of the door, he would be happy to see it. At this point, he wouldn’t even turn away _Demyx._

“Enter.”

Axel walked in, and Saïx immediately changed his mind.

It was more than a month since Axel had left for Castle Oblivion, and Saïx had been expecting him back any day now, sauntering into his office with an easy grin and slamming down another barely legible report on his desk, just like usual. He hadn’t been expecting… whatever this was. Axel walked in looking stiff and tired and slightly disoriented, and Saïx was reminded vaguely of the way Roxas had looked back when he’d first joined the Organisation.

“I have your mission report,” Axel said, strolling in with a nonchalance that Saïx could tell was a conscious effort.

“Sit,” Saïx said.

As Axel sprawled unceremoniously across the chair in front of Saïx’s desk, Saïx himself stood. There was a moment of hesitation, of realising that actually, there was no reason for him to get up, but the sight had spurred in him an immediate need to do _something_ , so instead he began pacing the office without direction, rummaging through piles of papers and inspecting bookshelves in an attempt to appear purposeful.

“How did things go?” Saïx asked, flicking aimlessly through a book he didn’t know the title of.

Axel rolled his eyes. “The answer to that question, and many other equally thrilling tales, is in here,” Axel said, waving his Mission Report at Saïx impatiently. “Seriously, if you’re gonna grill me every time I come back, why do you make me write these things? Can I just go?”

Saïx shut the book with a loud snap. “No.”

Axel sighed loudly in response, leaning forward so he could rest an elbow on Saïx’s desk, chin in hand.

A few moments passed before Saïx returned to his chair. There was just a short distance between them now, and up close, Axel looked even worse than at first sight. He looked pale and drawn, dark circles like bruises on chalky white skin. The rings of liner around his eyes were smudged and uneven, as though he’d slept in it last night and maybe the night before that, too. Saïx could see each of the tendons in Axel’s hands dancing under his skin as he fiddled absent-mindedly with the Mission Report in his lap, and he was sure he’d never been able to do that before.

“I asked you to look after yourself while you were gone.”

Axel hummed in response, looking entirely bored of the conversation.

“You haven’t.”

Saïx could practically _hear_ the eye roll that ensued. “You do know you didn’t exactly send me away on vacation, right? I’ve been pretty busy.”

“Too busy to sleep, even? I wouldn’t send you on a mission so unreasonable. You had the time.”

“Come on, have you met me? Of course I _slept_.”

Axel didn’t look bored anymore. He’d removed himself from Saïx’s desk and was sitting up straighter in the chair, shooting Saïx a look that reminded him intensely of when they were still Somebodies. It was the look Lea used to get right before doing something idiotic – and, as such, was a look that he knew incredibly well by now. It was a challenge; it said _try me, I dare you._

Saïx had learnt a long time ago that letting that look go unchallenged was not a good idea.

“It doesn’t look like it to me.”

“You don’t need to babysit me, Saïx. I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.”

There was a hostility to Axel’s words, and Saïx had to make the conscious effort not to deflect that energy straight back. Their conversations lately all seemed to devolve into bitter tennis matches, nothing but a back and forth of thinly veiled aggression, but Saïx was under no doubt that there was no place for that right now.

“If you don’t see a problem, then I think I am right to express concern.”

“Do you have to make everything so dramatic?” Axel asked, sighing in a way that was far more dramatic than anything Saïx had said. “I’ve been working hard. Y’know, like you _asked me to_. But if you’re gonna be weird about it, then I’m more than happy to kick back for a couple weeks. And y’know, a vacation day here and there wouldn’t go amiss.”

Saïx looked at Axel discerningly, trying to gauge the sincerity in his words. “I’ll consider it.”

“You happy?”

“For now,” Saïx responded, although the expression on his face didn’t do much to show it.

“Well, as much fun as this was, if we’re all done here…”

Axel stood up and walked to the door just a little too quickly to appear natural, and within moments, the door had glided softly closed. The office was once again silent but for the steady ticking of the clock – _that_ clock _,_ the one that had been driving Saïx to distraction all day with its infuriating refusal to move forward. Saïx was already sick of the sight of it, and now, all of a sudden, sick of the sound. Anger surged in his chest; anger at Axel’s recklessness, at his thoughtlessness, at the way he hadn’t seen Saïx in a month and yet still couldn’t seem to get away from him fast enough. Anger at the utter carelessness with which Axel appeared to be treating himself, with his instant dismissal of Saïx’s concerns. If Axel had run into a Heartless in the condition he’d turned up in today, Saïx wasn’t so sure he’d have made it back, and the thought made his stomach twist with hurt and worry and irreducible, all-consuming _anger._ It felt as though there were endless reasons to be angry, but they all boiled down to one single infuriating person.

And the anger wasn’t going away.

Saïx couldn’t deny that he’d felt the flickering of emotions over the years, but it had been all too easy to dismiss it.

Jealousy, when he ran into Axel in the hallways, so engrossed in conversation with Roxas that he didn’t even notice Saïx was there.

Loneliness, as he sat at his desk late into the night, the laughter in the Grey Area so loud he could hear it all the way from his office.

Hurt, hearing Axel tell Xion he’d take her to the beach one day, knowing that’s exactly where he and Lea had always dreamt of going together.

And overarching it all, confusion. Saïx didn’t understand how Axel could replace him so easily, what he’d done to deserve this, how Axel could appear so care-free, not when all Saïx could do was sit in his office alone with nothing to focus on but the hollow sitting deep and heavy in his chest.

It had felt better to dismiss the feelings as nothing more than a memory; it was so much easier to deal with the hurt if he convinced himself he felt nothing at all. But this…

This was impossible to ignore. The anger burnt hot and wild in his chest, filling the hollow that had sat there for so long with a pain so much worse than the unrelenting emptiness. Without a doubt, this wasn’t a memory of anger, or an imagined anger, or the knowledge that, ordinarily, he s _hould_ be angry. This was outright, explicit, _I’m going to launch that clock straight out the window_ angry.

Saïx got up and strode out of the office, headed for the Addled Impasse, making sure to push the clock off his desk with a tightly clenched fist on his way out. It shattered on impact with the floor, breaking into hundreds of tiny pieces with an ear-splitting crash, and Saïx couldn’t deny that he actually _enjoyed_ the sound.

* * *

**Day 150**

There was a knock at Axel’s door, and the sound came as a welcome surprise considering how often people (or, rather, one person in particular) seemed to barge into his room uninvited.

“It’s open.”

Axel, sat cross-legged on the bed and dressed in pyjamas, watched as Roxas and Xion shuffled into the room and stood uncertainly in the doorway, looking so impossibly awkward that Axel had to hold back a laugh.

“We, uh, wanted to see you. You’ve been gone a while, and…” Roxas trailed off, glancing at Xion as though looking for back-up.

“He’s trying to say that he missed you,” Xion said, rolling her eyes. Roxas shot her an incredulous look, as though she’d just given away a particularly embarrassing secret, and Axel was very impressed with the way Xion completely ignored it. “We both did, actually. Can we come in?”

“Sure. Sit.” Axel patted the bed next to him, and they both climbed on, sprawling out across the bedcovers as though they’d been there a hundred times before.

Axel raised the hand mirror he was holding back to his face. He had to admit, he was looking better now than he had when he’d looked in the mirror yesterday, the first time he’d seen his reflection since he’d left for Castle Oblivion. It wasn’t until that moment that he’d realised what a state of disrepair he’d been in. A part of his mind – one that he was trying very hard to suppress – was a little embarrassed he’d allowed Saïx to see him like that.

Now, freshly showered for the first time in longer than Axel would care to admit, he was attempting to make up for the unfortunate impression he’d made yesterday.

“I like it when you do that,” Xion said, gazing up at him with fascination as he began tracing a pencil across the curve of his eyelid. “It’s pretty.”

“Yeah?” Axel replied. He lowered the mirror for a moment, one eye lined in perfect black, the other still naked and pink. “Do you wanna try it?”

Xion’s eyes shone with excitement. “Really?”

“Sure. C’mere.”

Xion scooted closer to Axel so they were sitting directly across from each other, Roxas shuffling up along with her to get a better look at what was going on.

“Here,” Axel said, offering Xion a handful of objects she didn’t recognise. “Pick a colour.”

Xion handed him a purple stick and allowed Axel to lean in close as he began brushing something over her face.

“Y'know,” Axel said, gently sweeping Xion’s fringe out of her eyes, "it’s a shame you’re gonna be all dressed up with nowhere to go.”

“What do you mean?” Xion asked. “Where would we go?”

“I just mean, y’know, usually when people get all dressed up it’s because they’re going to a party or something. Not just sitting around in their bedrooms in some boring old castle.”

“What’s a party?” Roxas asked.

“A party is, uh, a celebration, I guess. Like when you have a birthday or something.” Axel paused suddenly, as though realising he’d said something he shouldn’t have. “Please tell me you guys aren’t gonna ask me what a birthday is.”

Axel was met with resounding silence. Xion still had her eyes closed, so Axel chose to look over his shoulder at Roxas so he could direct his exasperated look towards someone who could see it.

“I guess… we don’t have birthdays, since we weren’t really born,” Axel continued. “But our Somebodies do. You celebrate it every year. The day you came into existence. There’s cake and presents and… stuff.”

“When is your Somebody’s birthday, Axel?” Xion asked.

Axel paused for a moment, as though he wasn’t sure if he should answer. “August 8th.”

Xion’s eyes flew open, and Axel had to jerk his hand back suddenly to stop himself poking her in the eye with the pencil. “That’s next week!”

“Wait, wait! Don’t go getting all excited. We don’t do birthdays here,” Axel said. “We’re Nobodies. We don’t have birthdays. It’s just another day.”

Xion’s face dropped. “Oh. That’s a shame. Sounds like it would’ve been fun.”

* * *

Saïx flicked the switch on the kettle and stood back to watch it boil, one hand drumming irritably on the countertop. He couldn’t think of a word other than _uncomfortable_ to describe how he felt, but that one pathetic word really didn’t seem to do it justice.

For so long, Saïx had devoted his energies to suppressing every flicker of emotion his body offered him. He had no heart, he’d told himself. How could he be hurt, without a heart? How could he be jealous, or angry? How could he possibly be feeling the bitter sting of betrayal?

Now, within the space of a day, the illusion had shattered, and Saïx didn’t have the slightest idea what to do with all of the emotions he’d spent years avoiding. They were weak, certainly; these were not the emotions he had known as Isa, the ones that shone with a vibrancy and a brilliance that could make his still-present heart sing or ache or break into a million tiny pieces. But weak as they were, they were there. It felt, Saïx thought, as though someone had painted his feelings onto canvas and left it out to be faded by sunlight.

Saïx didn’t know what to do. And when Saïx didn’t know what to do, Saïx made tea.

It was with a great sigh of frustration that, just as Saïx had taken his first sip, the door to the kitchen swung open and in walked the three people he had least wanted to see.

“Are you sure I look okay?” Xion said. “It feels funny.”

“You kidding?” Axel replied. He leant lazily against the countertop as Roxas began digging around inside a cupboard. “You look wonderful.”

Saïx tightened his grip on the mug of tea, the heat scalding hot on his fingers.

Xion shuffled in place, embarrassed. “I never knew you were so good at this stuff,” she said. “Could you do it again sometime?”

“Sure. Just say the word.”

Saïx didn’t want to hear any more. He slipped out of the kitchen, mug clasped tight in his hand, fingertips burning with the heat of it. Saïx paid it little attention; the burning of jealousy in his chest was much harder to ignore.

* * *

_“Why do you wear that stuff?” Isa asked, staring at the items scattered on the countertop as though they were alien artefacts rather than simple cosmetics._

_“Why are you asking?” Lea countered, the drawl in his voice even more pronounced than usual._

_Isa picked up one of the tubes on the counter and scrutinised it closely, nose wrinkled. “I just don’t get the point.”_

_“Yeah? What, because I’m already irresistible without it?”_

_Lea met Isa’s eyes in the mirror and grinned, that insufferably smug look Lea got sometimes that made Isa want to hit him and kiss him all at once._

_“Modest, too,” Isa deadpanned._

_Lea span around on the stool so he could look at Isa directly. “I’m not hearing a no…”_

_Isa huffed, rolling his eyes so hard it hurt him a little. “Would you just answer the question already?”_

_Lea turned back towards the mirror, self-satisfied smile still tugging at his lips as he smeared them with lip balm. “I just think it looks cool. Do you wanna try it?”_

_“Nah. It’d look dumb on me.”_

_“Do you doubt my expertise?” Lea asked, raising an eyebrow._

_“No, I just—”_

_Before Isa could finish the sentence, Lea had stood up and pushed Isa down onto the stool. He was about to protest when Lea leaned into him, impossibly close, and suddenly any words Isa had been about to say died on his lips._

_They stayed like that for a long time, Isa’s face cupped in Lea’s hand as he tickled his skin with soft brushes, traced the lines of his eyes with a gentleness Isa hadn’t expected. Lea was close. Agonisingly, achingly close. Isa could feel his eyelashes flutter against his skin every time he blinked, the sensation so surprisingly intimate that it made Isa’s heart flutter in tandem. The proximity of Lea’s lips to his own was unbearable; Isa felt the ache of desire in his very bones. It would take all of a second to close the gap between them, to press his lips to Lea’s own and drink in the taste of his lip balm, to kiss the sweetness of it away._

_“Okay, one last touch.”_

_Without a word of warning, Lea reached across and ran a calloused fingertip against Isa’s chapped lips, smearing them with something smooth and sweet. The movements of his finger across Isa’s lips were painstakingly, achingly slow; gentle and deliberate, as though touching something deeply precious and feeling greatly honoured to be doing so. If Isa had thought the feeling of Lea’s eyelashes had been intimate, this was something else entirely, and he felt a heat rise in his body that he fought hard to will away before he could suffer the embarrassment of Lea noticing._

_“Well? What do you think?” Lea asked, calm and casual and seemingly entirely oblivious to the effect he was having on Isa’s body._

_Isa stared into the mirror, but he didn’t see a thing. All he could focus on was the taste of his lips, sweet and subtle, honey and vanilla, and Isa wasn’t quite sure what to do with the knowledge that this is what it would taste like to finally press his lips to Lea’s._

_“I love it,” Isa said, gaze focused not on the mirror, but on Lea’s lips, smeared with the same sweetness as Isa’s own._

_Isa couldn’t help thinking, as his pulse fluttered, that it would taste far better on him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The incredibly talented [Wallnut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wallnut) has created fanart from this chapter, and I'm completely in love with it! If you want to see their wonderful work, click [here](https://askkairi.tumblr.com/post/638451881077784576/without-a-word-of-warning-lea-reached-across-and)


	7. Swig

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realise I’m taking some pretty big creative liberties in this chapter, but I promise we’ll be back to the regularly scheduled kind-of-not-quite canonically accurate angst after this. I just wanted to give these stupid angsty boys one tiny piece of fluff :(  
> TW: alcohol use, one brief mention of disordered attitudes towards food
> 
> Editing to say that I hate this chapter and I've been wrestling back and forth with whether or not to delete it. I decided in the end to keep it in, for now, and if you want a dose of fluff to break up the angst a little bit, feel free to read it in full. Otherwise, I'd advise to stop reading once you get to Day 162; you won't miss a lot in terms of plot.

**Day 157**

Axel hadn’t slept much at Castle Oblivion. It reminded him too much of last time; the same bitter coldness, the same metallic tang in the air, and worst of all, the same ceiling, staring down at him in a way that felt suffocating even when his eyelids were tightly shut. Several times, he’d woken in the night and thought for a minute he was back where it all started – that if he wandered down the hallways, he would hear the velvety tones of Marluxia’s voice as he bickered with Larxene, or bump right into Zexion, head buried so deep in his book he couldn’t see where he was going. On one particularly sleepless night, he’d wandered down to see Vexen in his workroom, sleep deprived to such an extent that he’d convinced himself it had all been nothing more than a very long dream. Of course, no one was there. The place was empty; just Axel, alone with the ceiling.

He’d thought maybe, by the time he got back, the experience might have offered some degree of desensitisation, but his latest trip to Castle Oblivion had only made the memories fresher in his mind. Sleep came even less easily than usual, and when Axel woke up today, he felt so exhausted that he found it difficult to believe he’d actually got any sleep at all.

When Axel finally made it to the Grey Area, he felt as though he’d already done Mission Duty two times over, limbs aching and eyes gritty with exhaustion. A particularly foggy part of his mind genuinely wondered whether he _had_ already done Mission Duty today and he was just so tired that he’d forgotten about it. Saïx wasn’t here – that was unusual. Maybe he really _had_ done Mission Duty today? What time was it? Axel scanned the room, knowing full well there wasn’t a clock in there but unable to dredge that knowledge out of the fog in his brain.

It was then that he spotted the piece of paper stuck to the window, four words printed neatly in an elegant script that was unmistakably Saïx.

OPERATIONS CLOSED FOR VACATION

The paper, perfect white, glowed gently under the light of the moon, and Axel was sure it must be some kind of fatigue-induced hallucination. He rubbed at his gritty eyes, the movement slow and heavy, but the words were still there when he took his hands away.

Saïx had given them a day off. Axel had asked him to do something, and Saïx had actually _listened._ That alone was, in Axel’s opinion, more than enough proof that this was a figment of his imagination.

Hallucination or not, though, Axel was grabbing the chance while he had it, and he headed back down the corridor before anyone could come in and tell him otherwise.

It was testament to Axel’s exhaustion that he didn’t notice Roxas walking down the corridor until he was stood right in front of him, Roxas grabbing his elbow to keep Axel from walking straight past.

“Oh, hey Roxas.”

Roxas looked at him quizzically. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just—” Axel rubbed his hands across his face, hoping he could scrub the tiredness away for long enough to carry out a coherent conversation. “Just tired. Vacation day couldn’t have come at a better time.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Me? Sleep. And once I’m done with that, roll over and sleep some more. Enjoy your time off.”

Axel strode down the hallway before Roxas could keep him from his bed any longer.

* * *

Sleep never came. Hours slipped by uncomfortably, Axel’s mounting frustration only pushing sleep further and further out of reach. It was late afternoon by the time he decided that patience was clearly not the solution to the problem (a good thing, too, since Axel’s had most definitely run out), and began trudging down to the basement in search of something – _anything_ – that could offer some relief.

Axel could feel the drop in temperature the moment he set foot in the room, but that was not the reason for the chill that ran down his spine. He hadn’t been in Vexen’s lab since… _that_ day, and being back there now sent alarm bells ringing in his mind. He’d done his best to cage the memories up, to keep them quiet and unobtrusive, but coming back here seemed to bring them to life, rattling the bars on the cages and calling to be let out.

The fact that Vexen wasn’t here didn’t help, either. It felt _wrong_ to be down here all alone – as though Vexen would round the corner at any moment and begin another of his frenzied rants about _respecting the equipment_ and _disrupting the creative process_. Axel had to keep reminding himself that he didn’t need to tread so lightly – that there was no way that the echoes of his footsteps would cause Vexen to come storming in to shoo him out, the way it would have before.

“Looking for something?”

The noise startled Axel so much he physically jumped, head whipping instinctively in the direction of the sound. It was only then that he noticed Saïx perched on the edge of Vexen’s examination couch, and it was the first time in a long time that Axel had actually been glad to see him. The lab suddenly felt less empty, less _wrong_ , and the memories that had resurfaced seemed to retreat quietly back to their cages.

Axel had taken a few steps in Saïx’s direction when he noticed that he was sipping at a golden liquid that had become all too familiar to Axel as of late.

“Are you sick?” Axel asked. He walked over to Saïx and perched next to him on the couch, careful to keep a healthy distance between them, and not simply to avoid catching any of Saïx’s germs.

“No.”

Saïx placed the half-drunk Panacea down on the couch next to him, and Axel immediately picked it up and took a swig from it himself.

“Is that really necessary?” Saïx asked, voice heavy with exasperation.

“What? Don’t tell me you’re still scared of a little spit.” Axel took another large swig. “So if you’re not sick, what’s your deal? Don’t exactly get a whole lot of Heartless up in that office of yours, so it can’t be that. The worst thing that happens up there’s a papercut.”

Axel put the bottle back down on the couch, and Saïx picked it back up, shooting Axel a dirty look as he wiped the rim on his sleeve.

“Headache,” Saïx replied simply.

“You too, huh?”

Saïx hummed in response.

“No surprise there, I guess. When’s the last time you did something other than stare at a piece of paper all day?”

“I hardly think you’re in a position to be lecturing me on my habits. When’s the last time you got a full night’s sleep?”

Axel sighed. “Actually, I was sorta hoping there might be something down here to help with that.”

“If that were the case, I would have depleted the stocks a long time ago.”

Axel scrubbed at his face with his hands. “You’re killing me here.”

Saïx paused for a moment, then held what remained of the Panacea out to Axel. “Take it. You look like you need it more than I do.”

Axel didn’t disagree. They sat in silence for several minutes, Axel sipping slowly at the bottle while Saïx stared ahead, apparently deep in thought. There had been no shortage of silences between the two recently, but Axel couldn’t help noticing that this was the most comfortable one they’d had for as far back as he could remember. There was no awkwardness or tension, but rather a sense of unity between them that neither had felt in a long time. They were suffering, but they were suffering together.

“What’s with you today?” Axel asked, downing the last drop of Panacea from the bottle.

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve just had an entire conversation, and I didn’t hear you lay into me once. Did I actually manage to fall asleep for a minute there and miss it?”

Saïx smiled weakly. It was only when Axel saw it that he realised just how long it had been since he’d seen Saïx look anything other than mildly annoyed, and the sight felt almost magnetic; he had to make a conscious effort to resist the urge to shuffle further up the couch, legs swinging into the air restlessly.

“No. I have no intention of arguing with you today.” Saïx gestured at the empty bottle of Panacea sitting between them. “I don’t think either of us are up to it.”

“That better not mean I’m getting a double dose of lectures from you tomorrow.”

“Not if you’re on your best behaviour.”

Axel grinned. “I don’t think I like my chances.”

Saïx quirked an eyebrow in response, the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at his lips, and Axel stared disbelievingly, wondering once again whether it was nothing more than a trick of his desperately sleep-deprived mind. He hadn’t expected anything more than an exasperated sigh.

“Hey,” Axel began, emboldened by the response, “I guess I better thank you for the vacation day.”

Saïx hummed. “It wasn’t just for you. It was overdue anyway.”

“Whatever you say.” Axel leant back on the couch, watching Saïx closely. “Shame you couldn’t have made it a week later. Would’ve made a nice birthday present.”

“Since when does a Nobody have a birthday?”

Axel shrugged. “I know there’s not much point celebrating this stuff anymore, but this year… Roxas and Xion don’t even have _memories_ of birthdays. I thought it might be nice to give them one.”

Saïx’s lips had straightened back out into a thin line.

“Nothing major, I mean,” Axel continued, noting the change in Saïx’s expression. “I was thinking more just getting a cake and eating it together. What d’you think? Up for it?”

There was a long pause before Saïx replied, and Axel spent the entirety of it convinced that Saïx was planning another lecture about _priorities_ and _Kingdom Hearts_ and vague threats about sending him to Agrabah for a month with no one but Demyx for company.

“So long as it doesn’t affect missions, I don’t have a problem with it,” Saïx eventually said, pushing himself up off the couch. “But you know my feelings regarding Roxas and Xion. I’m not doing this for them.”

Axel’s gaze trailed after him as he walked out of the room.

* * *

Saïx stood in the Addled Impasse, still and silent as he stared through the window. The few sips of Panacea he’d taken before Axel had arrived had served only to take the edge off the headache, the throbbing in his temples still very much present. His head was too full of feelings – at least, that’s what he put it down to. Saïx could picture them in his mind, a crowd of emotions crammed into his skull, pressed flush to the bone and pounding against it in their fight to be let out. For once, Saïx was glad he couldn’t feel emotions as strongly as he had as Isa; even these tiny fledgling feelings were more trouble than they were worth.

His chest _ached._ Too full of regret, of envy, of desperate yearning for days gone by. He could still taste the Panacea on his tongue, the golden liquid sweet and smooth and tasting faintly of honey, and it reminded him so much of the lip balm Lea wore all those years ago. He couldn’t decide whether the feelings it dredged up in him were pleasant or not – Saïx could only feel one thing right now, and that feeling was simply _everything_.

Saïx noted, with extreme reluctance and a sour expression, that there was one person who seemed to be central to this unfortunate development. The prospect of carrying on like this indefinitely was unimaginable, but no matter how much he willed it, the pull of his emotions never seemed to lessen. And if he couldn’t will away these feelings, he was going to have to find some other way of taking them away.

* * *

**Day 162**

When Axel had told Roxas and Xion that he was giving them a taste of what a birthday was like, he hadn’t expected quite the reaction he’d got. In his head, the plan had been simple: grab a cheap cake from Twilight Town, share it out at dinner, and maybe suffer through one of Demyx’s renditions of Happy Birthday, just to give them the full experience. As it turned out, the two had been a lot more enthusiastic about the whole thing than he’d expected, and the whole situation had snowballed into something much bigger than he’d ever wanted it to. Roxas and Xion had very much taken control of the situation, and Axel found himself watching on feeling something somewhere between amusement and exasperation.

Today was the eighth, and Axel had been cooped up in his room ever since they got back from the clocktower, under strict instructions from Xion that he was _not to leave under any circumstances._ She’d said it with hands on hips, looking up at him with a fierce expression that might have been a little intimidating if she hadn’t had to stand on tiptoe to look him in the eye. She’d refused to give an exact reason as to why, and honestly, Axel was a little nervous about what he was letting himself in for – when they’d talked about what happened on a birthday, he hadn’t exactly provided a wealth of information, and he could only assume they were asking the other Organisation members to fill in the gaps. He couldn’t imagine the kind of nightmare that was in store if they were getting all of their information from Xigbar or, God forbid, _Demyx_.

It was late afternoon when Axel heard the door slide open, and he turned in its direction immediately, eager to find out what Roxas and Xion had been up to all afternoon.

“Happy birthday, Lea.”

The words were unexpected, and Axel suddenly felt hot and nervous and pleasantly uncomfortable.

The door shut softly behind Saïx as he moved forwards and sat on the edge of the bed next to Axel. There was a box in his lap, small and plain brown, and Axel had a suspicion it had been taken from one of the shelves in his office and hastily repurposed. The whole thing was so distinctly unlike Saïx that Axel had to resist the urge to laugh, but equally, it was so reminiscent of Isa that Axel felt the familiar burn in the back of his throat that came with holding back tears.

“Here.”

Saïx handed the box over, watching closely.

“I, uh, wasn’t expecting this,” Axel said, turning the box over in his hands. “You feeling alright? Had any more keyblades hit you on the head lately?”

Saïx glowered. “I don’t want you to be under any false pretenses, so I feel I should say this isn’t a birthday present. I simply came into possession of something I had no use for.”

“Yeah?” Axel grinned. “The box was a nice touch.”

“You’re impossible.” Saïx paused for a moment to press his lips into a hard line. “Well? Are you going to open it?”

Axel didn’t need to be asked twice, and soon the box was lying open in his lap. Inside was a simple pack of birthday candles.

“You used to say it was your favourite thing about birthdays. Free wishes.”

“Well, yeah,” Axel replied. “I’m not gonna pay for them like some kind of sucker. D’you remember all the times you used to sit in front of the fountain tossing in coins? You must’ve spent a small fortune on that thing.”

Saïx didn’t reply, looking deep in thought.

Axel rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, thanks, I guess. You, uh… you definitely surprised me.”

“Did you receive anything else today?” Saïx asked, looking, if it were possible, even stiffer than usual.

“Nah. But Roxas and Xion did say they have a ‘surprise’ for me later, so I’ve definitely not been terrified about whatever _that_ is.”

The mention of Roxas and Xion had Saïx pressing his lips into a hard line, humming quietly in response.

“They’ve made utter chaos of the Grey Area. Mission Duty has been near impossible.”

“How is that, uh, going?” Axel asked. “I’m not sure what to expect.”

Axel could _swear_ he saw the corners of Saïx’s lips twitch. “It’s quite the spectacle.”

“I don’t know whether to be excited or afraid.”

“I’d advise towards the latter, personally.”

It took him by surprise when he felt a short laugh escape from his chest.

A moment of silence followed, both sitting side by side on the bed with gazes carefully directed at anything but each other. It felt almost as though looking each other in the eye might remind them who they were talking to, might trigger the conversation to suddenly devolve into something much less civil.

“Are you gonna come? To Roxas’ and Xion’s… thing?” Axel asked.

Saïx didn’t answer for a while. This silence was longer than the last, to the point that Axel had started to believe he wasn’t going to bother answering at all. He did though, eventually.

“Would you like me to?”

Axel sighed, feeling himself begin to get irritated. Why was it so hard to get a simple straight answer?

“It was a yes or no question.”

“So was mine.”

It was a childish response, and Axel could feel his irritation growing. Not wanting to allow what had been an otherwise not unpleasant conversation devolve any further, Axel stood abruptly and walked into the bathroom, the sound of the shower turning on a clear signal that the conversation was over.

“Do what you like.”

* * *

“Xion, this really isn’t necessary—”

“Yes it is! We’re almost there now anyway, so you can quit complaining.”

Axel reached up to adjust the strip of black fabric Xion had wrapped around his eyes, pressing uncomfortably into his face, but Xion immediately knocked his hand away. “Axel!”

He huffed in exasperation. “Did you have to tie this thing so tight? It _hurts_.”

It was probably a good thing that Axel couldn’t see Xion roll her eyes.

“Okay, okay! Take it off, we’re here.”

Axel was so eager to rip the blindfold off that he hadn’t given much thought to what might be waiting for him afterwards, and the sight that greeted him was so unexpected that he physically jumped.

“What do you think?” Roxas asked.

“It’s…” Axel trailed off, unsure what word it was he was looking for. “It’s really something.”

Axel was pretty sure what was in front of him was meant to be a cake, but it was hard to interpret when all he could really make out was a very large, very misshapen pile of semi-solid goo. Much of it seemed to have dripped onto the floor and been tracked throughout the room in a criss-cross of sticky footprints, and Axel got the impression that this was following a well-meaning but ultimately unsuccessful attempt at cleaning up the mess.

“It’s an ice-cream cake,” Xion said, although she didn’t sound very sure of it.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Axel said. “Let’s try it.”

Xion cut carefully into the cake and dished it out onto three separate plates, then watched apprehensively as Axel took a bite.

“This is great,” Axel said, deliberately not mentioning the part about it tasting a lot better than it looked. “I’m pretty impressed.”

Xion beamed.

“Where did you guys learn to make this?”

Xion got up and walked over to the table, tapping the book that laid next to the cake and prompting a cloud of dust to rise into the air. “We found a recipe book. Did you know this place has a whole library? I found it a couple weeks ago, and it looked like it hadn’t been used in… forever. How come?”

It was a question Axel didn’t want to answer, so he simply shrugged in response. The only people who’d ever used that room were Zexion and Vexen, and Axel swallowed thickly against a sudden wave of nausea as his memories of their deaths rose to the surface of his mind like bile into his throat. The cake seemed to turn to ash in his mouth, and he hastily placed the plate of cake onto the floor while Roxas and Xion busied themselves with something on the table behind him.

“Anyway,” Roxas said as he and Xion walked back over. “Before everyone else gets here, we had a surprise for you.”

“Hit me.”

Roxas handed over a small package, the paper folded haphazardly at odd angles and torn in several places.

“Roxas wrapped it,” Xion said, exasperation evident in her voice.

Roxas crossed his arms, his expression suggesting that Xion had already made a great deal of commentary about the state of his wrapping.

“It’s… I love it,” Axel said once he’d finally managed to pull off the wrapping. “How did you get this?”

It was a photo frame, the picture inside showing the three of them in what looked like Market Street of Twilight Town. Axel stood in the centre, one arm linked with Xion’s, the other resting on Roxas’ shoulder, all three of them beaming at the camera.

“You remember those kids we met, right? Hayner, he had a camera? I asked him for a copy,” Roxas said.

Axel stared at the picture for a few moments longer before slipping it into his pocket.

“Thanks guys, really. For everything.”

* * *

Most of the members of the Organisation had dropped by the Grey Area for cake not long after, per Roxas’ instructions. Xemnas didn’t come, but that was expected; Roxas hadn’t dared extend him the invitation, and no one had particularly wanted him there anyway. Saïx also didn’t come, but Axel had told himself he hadn’t wanted _him_ there, either.

The Dusks had done a much better job of cleaning up the Grey Area than Roxas and Xion had. Axel found himself back there now, sprawled across a couch and sipping at something strong and dark as he gazed out of the window. It was late enough that the Castle had stilled, the hallways empty and quiet; that is, until a voice from the doorway interrupted.

“Drinking alone? On your birthday?” Xigbar drawled, face drawn into that self-satisfied smirk that Axel hated.

Xigbar strode into the room and sat opposite Axel, Luxord and Xaldin trailing after him.

“Technically, it’s not my birthday,” Axel said irritably. “And if you guys think your company is an improvement on drinking alone, I got some bad news for you.”

“My my, someone’s feeling cranky,” Xigbar said, picking up the bottle lying on the table and helping himself.

“We were on our way to a game,” Luxord said. He produced a hand of cards from his pocket and fanned them out in front of him. “Fancy joining?”

Axel downed the rest of his drink. “Not really.”

Luxord shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

The three had apparently decided that here was as good a place to start the game as any, and Axel watched on with growing irritation as the conversation grew steadily louder. The noise had apparently been enough to attract the attention of Demyx and Roxas, who both came trudging into the Grey Area within minutes of each other, Demyx wide-eyed with interest and Roxas bleary-eyed with sleep, dressed in pyjamas and looking very much as though the noise had woken him up.

In that moment, Axel wanted nothing more than to simply go to bed. He knew, however, that there was little point in doing so; sleep was elusive lately even without all the noise. It wasn't long, however, until he came to the conclusion that even lying in bed awake would be preferable to sitting there any longer, but just as he was about to stand, he felt a presence by his shoulder.

“ _Shit,_ Saïx, what are you doing?” Axel asked, one hand shooting to his chest as a reflex reaction to the sudden pounding there.

Saïx would have looked awkward if he weren’t so naturally imposing, still and silent and _staring._ Without a word, he walked round to the front of the couch, taking a seat in the space between Axel and Roxas. Roxas scooted in the opposite direction, a move which could have been interpreted as him politely providing Saïx with more space to sit, but which was actually just an attempt to get as far away from him as possible.

“Well, well,” Xigbar said, smirking. “I didn’t expect you to show up.”

“I’m here in a purely supervisory capacity _,”_ Saïx said, face completely expressionless. “I could hear the noise from my office _._ I feel obligated to remind you that I still expect everyone to collect their missions tomorrow morning, _on time._ ” He looked at Demyx pointedly.

Axel was watching Saïx from the corner of his eye, uncertain. Everything about him was hard to read, and Axel was struggling to determine whether he really had come purely to “supervise”. He sort of believed it, but he wished he didn’t.

Axel reached for the glass he’d left lying on the table and took a long drink, suddenly feeling as though he needed it, throat burning and eyes watering from the strength of it. He realised suddenly that Saïx was _close_ again, the three of them squished together on the one couch. Roxas had curled himself into the farthest corner, as far from Saïx as the seat allowed, but Axel hadn’t moved since Saïx’s arrival, remaining sprawled out across half of the cushions. They were practically hip to hip, thigh to thigh, and the temptation to close the gap was so strong that Axel had to look for some kind of distraction before he actually went ahead with it.

“Hey, Luxord,” Axel called. Xigbar shot him a dirty look; he’d been halfway through a sentence when Axel spoke. “Deal me in."

* * *

Their elbows kept touching.

It was an utterly _ridiculous_ thing to be thinking about, Axel knew that, but the alcohol had seemed to hit him all at once and he was struggling to get a hold on his thoughts. That was what he blamed it on, anyway. He thought it would be much more concerning if these were the workings of a sober mind.

Saïx shifted in place next to him, and his hand brushed Axel’s leg in the process. The touch lasted no more than a second, but he could feel it on him long after Saïx’s hand was gone. He wondered for a moment if Saïx was doing it on purpose, but quickly, the thought was gone, and he wondered instead if they were touching simply because he was in the way, taking up too much space. Axel shuffled reluctantly towards the edge of the couch, distancing himself from Saïx, and tucked his body into itself so it was as small as he could make it.

Saïx looked at him, the first time he’d done so properly all night, but Axel didn’t notice. The room felt like it was spinning. His thoughts felt like they were running away from him.

Axel closed his eyes. It made the spinning feel worse, but it made everything else feel better.

“Axel?”

He could feel a hand on his shoulder. He knew whose hand it was because the touch made his pulse stutter. He leaned into the touch without really thinking about it, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, _at last._

Saïx sighed, and Axel could feel it in his hair.

“Axel, you should go to bed.”

“Mm.”

Axel didn’t move. Saïx’s body was warm against his own. That feeling of magnetism was there again, as though he didn’t have the strength to pull away.

The hand on his shoulder shook him rather roughly, and he opened his eyes again, indignant. Everyone was looking at him with varying degrees of subtlety, and he wondered whether he’d accidentally said something about magnets out loud. If there’d been a little less alcohol in his system, the idea would have struck him with horror.

“’M too tired. Just let me sleep here.”

Axel felt Saïx’s body pull away, then felt an arm return, wrapping around his back and pulling him to his feet in a way that was not exactly gentle. The arm was firm around him as it guided him towards the door; he followed it, unsteady.

Neither said a word until they were in front of Axel’s bedroom.

“Can I trust you to make it to bed without sustaining any serious injuries?”

Axel grinned, leaning heavily against the doorframe. “You couldn’t trust me with that even if I were sober.”

Saïx didn’t respond, just looked at Axel wordlessly for a few seconds, before opening the door and letting himself inside.


	8. Somnolence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Google search for “do they sell Jelly Babies in America” told me that no, they do not (my condolences), and I was going to change it to a more American sweet but honestly Jelly Babies just felt right  
> Trigger warnings: underage drinking (I envisioned them around 16 here)

_“Where did you get this?”_

_Lea hugged the bottle to his chest, looking pleased with himself. “Does it matter?”_

_“Definitely.”_

_He set the bottle on the floor with a thud, rolling his eyes. “Wrong answer.”_

_The floor of Fountain Court was cold once it got dark, and Isa shifted uncomfortably on the stone as he watched Lea twist the lid off the bottle. It was late enough for the fountains to have been switched off; the water lay still and quiet, glowing softly under the streetlights. It felt surreal. Isa’s stomach fluttered nervously, and he traced a hand along the ridges of the floor, reassured by the feeling of rough stone on delicate fingers._

_“Do the honours?”_

_Lea held the bottle out, grinning. Isa took it, but didn’t drink, holding it in his lap with both hands._

_“I’ve never done this before,” Isa said, running a finger around the rim of the bottle._

_“Me neither.”_

_Lea shuffled over so they were sitting side by side, backs to the wall and enough space between them for Isa to put down the bottle._

_“We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” Lea said. He wasn’t grinning anymore, expression serious and voice soft._

_“I do.” Isa smiled at Lea, fond and warm, and held the bottle up in toast. “Happy birthday, Lea.”_

_Isa didn’t sip from the bottle as much as he did gulp from it, and Lea watched on with mild concern as he broke out into a rather spectacular coughing fit. He gave him a few cursory claps on the back, but he wasn’t really sure whether they were making it better or worse. It took a good minute for the coughing to finally stop._

_Lea shot Isa a very self-satisfied smirk. “Graceful as ever.”_

_“Shut up.”_

_They spent a while passing the bottle back and forth, chatting about nothing in particular. It was still half full when the conversation started to become less coherent, the words losing shape in their mouths, new sentences starting before the old ones had ended. Laughter always came easy when the two were together, but now it seemed as though it wouldn’t stop, permeating each sentence like it had woven right into the words._

_The gap between them had closed without either really realising it. Lea didn’t know how long they’d been sat so close together; he only noticed when Isa had taken back the bottle, giddy conversation pausing while he drank._

_They hadn’t done this before, not on purpose. There’d been times when they’d sat squeezed together on crowded buses or busy trains, faces red and gazes averted, hyper aware of skin on skin. Lea spent journeys like that looking at the flush in Isa’s cheeks and wondering what it could mean. His hands were always restless, itching to reach across and take Isa’s in his own, waiting for any kind of indication that that would be okay. It never came; Isa stared steadfastly out of the window until they reached their stop and they hastily pulled themselves apart again._

_Lea considered it. He could do it right now, take hold of his hand. It seemed simultaneously like a brilliant idea and a terrible one, and he sort of liked the sound of that. Isa’s cheeks were flushed, but Lea wasn’t sure whether that was from the drinking or because he’d also become aware of the feeling of their bodies pressed together. It felt intensely reminiscent of a rush hour train, staring at Isa’s blush and wondering what it meant, the itch in his hands unrelenting._

_Then it stopped._

_Isa had taken his hand. It was fast and clumsy, as though he’d rushed to grab it before he could change his mind. His heart was hammering, but so was Isa’s; Lea could feel it through his thin t-shirt, beating just as fast as his own._

_Lea looked up at him curiously, but Isa’s gaze was fixed straight ahead. The breeze was blowing his hair in the wrong direction, and Isa reached a hand up to brush a strand of blue from his lips. Lea watched, silent, his gaze lingering there after Isa’s hand had moved away. They were pink and soft and Lea had spent so many moments wondering what they might feel like against his own, and now he was wondering again, and it seemed as though maybe he wouldn’t_ have _to wonder anymore, he could just tell him, right now:_ I really want to kiss you.

_Say it say it say it say it say it—_

_“I’m sorry we couldn’t make the beach this year,” Isa said. “We’ll go next year. I promise.”_

_Lea looked away. The words seemed to dissolve on his tongue._

_“Yeah. I’d like that.”_

* * *

Saïx emerged from the bathroom with a glass of water and placed it on Axel’s bedside table. Axel didn’t seem to notice; he was lying on the bed with his eyes closed, apparently already asleep. Saïx eyed him from the side of the bed, trying to determine where the boundaries lay. It seemed like common sense to take off Axel’s coat in a situation like this, or at the very least those heavy boots of his, but doing so felt like an invasion of privacy he wasn’t sure Axel would appreciate. Saïx remembered the look on Axel’s face, the tone of Axel’s voice, the last time Saïx had seen him less than fully dressed, just before Axel’s last trip to Castle Oblivion. Once upon a time, Axel wouldn’t so much have blinked an eye at walking around half-dressed in front of Saïx; rather, Saïx (and several other members of the Organisation) had had to ask him on several occasions to _please_ put some more clothes _on._

Clearly, the boundaries had shifted. Saïx wished he knew when.

Quickly, he pushed any wistful feelings out of mind and replaced them with the ever-familiar prickling of irritation, an emotion he felt much better equipped to handle.

Fine, then. Axel could sleep uncomfortably. It was his own fault, anyway.

Saïx’s coat swished as he turned from the bed and strode away.

“Saïx?”

Saïx paused with one hand poised to open the door.

“What’re y’doing?” Axel asked, each word blurring into the next.

“I was just leaving.”

“Why?”

Saïx turned back around. “Do you expect me to stay here all night?”

Axel managed to prop himself up slightly on his elbows, squinting at Saïx through half-lidded eyes. “Aren’t you meant to make sure I don’t die in my sleep or somethin’?”

Saïx crossed his arms. “If you were to die, it would no doubt be in a way far more dramatic than _that._ And no doubt far more inconveniencing for _me_.”

Axel flopped back down onto the bed, sarcasm unwavering even in his state of inebriation: “Thanks for your concern.”

“I brought you to bed. What else do you expect from me?”

“Stay,” Axel replied, rolling back onto his side and closing his eyes once again.

Saïx hadn’t expected such a straight answer, but then, if there was one thing alcohol was good for, it was disinhibition. Saïx made a mental note to stay far, far away from the stuff; Saïx’s inhibitions had always been exceptionally high, and that was exactly the way he liked them.

Saïx sighed. He walked back over to Axel’s bed and eyed it warily, as though it were not Axel nestled into the pillows, but a particularly vicious Heartless. Saïx almost wished it _were_ the Heartless – at least then he’d know exactly what to do with it. Axel, on the other hand, was a far more confusing entity.

It was a single bed, and with the way Axel sprawled his spindly limbs across it, there was barely enough room for one person, never mind two. After a long moment of consideration, Saïx perched on the very edge of it, looking every bit as awkward as he felt.

Axel appeared now to have transitioned from drunken daze to full-on unconsciousness, snoring next to Saïx’s leg just loud enough for him to hear. The situation was inconvenient to say the least, but Saïx was glad to see Axel getting some sleep at last, the dark circles under his eyes stark and growing darker with each day.

Axel radiated heat. He always had done. Saïx could feel it along the side of his body facing Axel, not dissimilar to the soft warmth that came from sitting in front of the fireplace in Xemnas’ office. Despite the rift between he and Axel now, Saïx felt more comfortable here, however, than he ever had there, sitting awkwardly in one of Xemnas’ too-large armchairs as he sipped at a drink he’d been too polite to say no to and fought to keep the look of distaste from his face. The heat there had always felt stifling, suffocating, but there was something much more comforting about the warmth emanating from Axel’s body, and Saïx could feel it beginning to melt some of his stiffness away, relaxing back into the pillows. Axel, although entirely incoherent at this point, seemed to register on some level the closeness of Saïx’s body, shuffling closer so that his hair fanned out across the nearest of Saïx’s legs.

For a good while, Saïx considered it; considered pretending, just for a moment, that the rift between them was no longer there. It would be easy to swing his legs up onto the bed and let himself fall asleep by Axel’s side, in a way he hadn’t done for more years than he was able to remember. Axel had asked him to stay; all he need do was say yes.

Axel turned over next to him, and Saïx felt the bed dip slightly between them as the movement nudged something small and light out of Axel’s pocket. Saïx peered at it curiously, leaning over to get a better look; Axel didn’t normally use his pockets for anything more than loose change and the sticky remnants of long-forgotten Jelly Babies.

Saïx felt the embers of uncomfortable emotions begin to stir in him again, and he tore his gaze away from the object before they became so strong he would be forced to put a name to them. The names made them so much harder to ignore.

Xion and Roxas beamed up at him from the picture frame, stationed either side of Axel, and it served only as a reminder of how ridiculous the situation was. Saïx was right here, hunched uncomfortably on the edge of the bed, losing sleep to look after Axel when it was his own stupid fault he was in this state in the first place. Where had Axel been? Where had Axel been, when Saïx had suffered through gruelling days and sleepless nights? Where had Axel been, when Saïx had been forced to stitch up the gashes in his skin all by himself? Where had Axel been, when Saïx had needed someone to sit on the edge of his bed and offer him some small semblance of reassurance that maybe, not everything was as terrible as it seemed?

The answer was right there on the bed, beaming up at him from within the small wooden frame.

Saïx pushed himself up off the bed, and this time, he was through the door before Axel had chance to protest.

* * *

“Roxas!” Axel jumped up from his spot on the couch and immediately regretted it, the sudden movement setting off a bout of throbbing in his already aching head. Roxas was stood in the entrance to the Grey Area, watching with an expression of mild amusement as Axel stepped gingerly towards him. “Man, am I glad to see you. You got a few minutes before you head off? I gotta pick your brain.”

“Uh, sure, I guess,” Roxas replied. “What’s up?”

“I don’t remember _anything_ ,” Axel said, rubbing at his temples aggressively with the heel of his hands. “Please tell me you were there last night. Don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty sure I looked like an idiot. But I gotta know whether this is the ‘they’ll forget about it in a week’ kind of idiot, or whether I gotta cut my hair and leave the country.”

“You didn’t do a whole lot,” Roxas said, brow wrinkling in concentration as he recalled the events of the night before. “It was a little weird when you started sleeping on Saïx’s shoulder, but apart from that—”

Axel interrupted Roxas to groan dramatically. “Kill me.”

“I think Saïx might have that covered, actually,” Roxas said, eyes flicking over to where Saïx stood at the other end of the room. “He looked pretty annoyed when he was dragging you to bed. That vein in his forehead—”

“What?”

Roxas frowned slightly at being interrupted yet again, but answered anyway. “Yeah, you were pretty out of it.”

“Well, why did—”

“Are you two quite finished?”

Axel looked up at the interruption to find that Saïx was much closer than he had been the last time he’d checked, footsteps eerily silent as he walked towards them.

“You’re late. This is no time for idle chit-chat.”

Saïx thrust a piece of paper in Roxas’ direction without bothering to look up from his binder, and Roxas took it with a sigh of resignation.

“See you later, Axel.”

Axel huffed in frustration as Roxas disappeared into a Dark Corridor, leaving him alone with Saïx once again.

“I see you survived the night, then,” Saïx said dryly, still not meeting Axel’s eyes.

“Just about,” Axel replied, reaching a hand up to resume rubbing at his temples. “But the way I feel this morning, I sorta wish I hadn’t.”

Saïx pursed his lips. “If you’re looking for sympathy, I have none to offer you.”

“What a surprise,” Axel said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “No chance of one tiny little day off? For, uh, my health?”

Saïx whipped a sheet of paper out of his binder and offered it to Axel. “You showed little concern for your health last night. I don’t see why things should be any different this morning.”

Axel took the paper with a weary expression, lacking the energy to argue about it.

There was a moment of silence where Axel visibly hesitated, and then he spoke once again, running a hand through his hair absent-mindedly. “Did I, uh, say anything to you last night?”

Saïx raised an eyebrow. “No. You were much too busy salivating onto my shoulder.”

Axel brushed off the embarrassment that loomed in the back of his mind, telling himself if that was all he’d done, he’d gotten off pretty lightly. The worst case scenarios he’d been running through this morning had involved things considerably more embarrassing than a bit of drool on a shoulder.

Saïx met Axel’s eyes at last then, gaze piercing and set into an expression that Axel couldn’t quite place. “I do hope you aren’t keeping secrets, Axel.”

Axel shifted his weight from one foot to the other, fidgeting with the sheet of paper Saïx had handed him. “This has been a great talk and all, but I should really go. I know how much you hate _idle chit-chat._ ” Axel quirked an eyebrow as he mirrored Saïx’s words back at him.

Saïx watched with a steely expression as Axel stepped into a Dark Corridor.

* * *

**Day 167**

Vexen had always been prone to the occasional rant or two; this was a fact Axel was, regrettably, very well acquainted with. Axel had been subjected to many of these over the years, ranging from the intellectual to the downright absurd, but there was one in particular that Axel had found himself thinking about recently. _Time as we know it is a human construct_ , Vexen had said one day at breakfast, waving his knife around so wildly that Zexion had wound up with butter in his hair. _The passage of time is not as regimented as we believe it to be; time is as real as space, but it’s also just as chaotic._

Axel had simply gazed at him blankly over the top of his coffee mug, wondering how on earth Vexen was spouting all this off at 8am on a Monday morning. Now, however, many months down the line, Axel was starting to get a feel for just how chaotic time could be. Some days seemed to stretch on endlessly, as though there were somehow twice as many hours packed into the day. Other times, the days tumbled by in an incomprehensible rush, the events of each day jumbling together in a haze of blurry memories that made Axel feel as though several days were somehow unfolding all at once.

Axel suspected it had something to do with the apparent breakdown of his body clock. Axel’s insomnia had destroyed any sense of night and day, and all the other time constructs that went with it; there was no longer a time to get up or a time to go to bed, no longer a lunchtime or a dinnertime. Reporting into Saïx at 9am was the one thing that remained constant, leaving the rest of the day to stutter by with a jarring sense of irregularity.

“Feeling brave today, are we?”

Axel jolted awake at the sound of Luxord’s voice. He grimaced as he peeled his cheek off the armrest of the couch, pushing himself clumsily into a more upright position. Axel’s mind swam with the increasingly familiar sense of disorientation that came with not having the slightest idea what time it was.

Luxord reclined on the couch opposite Axel, clutching a teacup to his chest. “I thought you had more wits about you than that, Axel,” Luxord stated, the steam from the cup curling in soft whisps around his face. “It’s a good thing I was here to wake you up. If Xigbar had found you sleeping here…” Luxord raised the cup to his lips for a moment, brow furrowed. “Well, you should count yourself lucky I lack his sense of imagination.”

Axel heaved a sigh, pushing himself up off the couch. The dizzy pull of light-headedness that ensued felt at odds with the heaviness in his limbs.

“Yeah. Thanks, Luxord.”

Axel wandered out of the room and turned into the nearest corridor, trying to figure out how long he’d managed to sleep for. The heavy weight of fatigue made it seem as though it had only been a few minutes since he’d returned from the clocktower and flopped exhausted onto the couch, but if Luxord were taking tea, Axel knew it must be much later in the evening than it seemed.

It wasn’t until he got there that he realised that’s where he’d been heading; the door to Vexen’s old lab swam into view, and Axel blinked at it for a moment, not sure why he’d come. There were no aches or pains to warrant a Panacea, no injuries that needed healing over with a Potion. There was only the thick fog of exhaustion, and he knew there was nothing here that could help with that.

He pushed the door open anyway.

Axel felt it before he saw it, his skin crawling with the prickling uneasiness of being watched. He’d taken several cautious steps into the lab before he realised why; Saïx was here again, sitting cross-legged on the examination couch with a glass of water and, of course, the ever-present binder. It lay abandoned in his lap, Saïx’s eyes boring into Axel from across the room.

“What are you doing here?” Axel asked, strolling over to the couch and leaning heavily against it.

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Can we not play this game? I’m really not in the mood.”

Saïx blinked at Axel for a moment, then carefully folded down the corner of the page and shut the binder with a quiet thud.

“What do you want, then?” Saïx asked. It was a question Axel had heard from Saïx many times before, but not like this; the accusatory edge to Saïx’s voice was gone, replaced by something much softer.

“Dunno.”

Axel lifted himself up onto the couch, sitting cross-legged opposite Saïx like a mirror image. Saïx’s eyes followed his every movement, flickering over each part of his body as he took a moment to rearrange his limbs. There was a lengthy moment of silence before anyone spoke.

“Are you still having trouble sleeping?”

Axel shrugged, tugging on a piece of hair absent-mindedly. “Nah. It’s fine.”

“It doesn’t look like it.”

Axel scowled. “What’s the point in asking me a question if you already think you know the answer?”

Saïx scowled back. “What’s the point in lying when we both know the truth?”

Axel shot Saïx a dark look, then made to push himself up off the couch.

“Wait.” Saïx lunged forward suddenly, wrapping a hand around Axel’s wrist before he could leave, then quickly withdrew it as though the touch had burnt his fingers. _Don’t go._ No matter how much he tried, it wouldn’t come out. This was far from the first time the words had danced on the tip of his tongue, and that was exactly where they had always stayed. Saïx took a sip of his water, swallowing the words down with it. He wished he could do the same for his pride.

“Talk to me,” Saïx tried instead. It came out stiff, as though it had been a battle to get his body to say the words.

“About what?”

“I’m no fool, Axel. I know you’re barely sleeping. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you drifting around the Castle at all hours of the night like you’re in some kind of trance. Sometimes I worry that you—” Saïx cut himself off, visibly struggling over the words. “Xehanort. Has he— Have you—”

Axel interrupted Saïx with a snort. “Never had you pegged as the conspiracy theory type,” he said, managing something resembling a smirk. “Quit working yourself up. This has nothing to do with Xehanort.”

“Then what…?”

“I dunno, Saïx. It’s complicated.”

Saïx didn’t reply for a moment. “Then explain it to me.”

“Nah. I already told you it’s fine.” Axel began to run a hand through his hair, frowning as his fingers snagged on a knot.

Saïx looked as though he were about to argue, but after a brief moment of tension, the hardness of his gaze gave way. “A distraction, then.”

“What?”

Saïx bent over the side of the couch, placing the glass of water onto the floor, then slid over to the very edge of the seat and gestured towards the now empty space next to him.

“Lie down.”

Axel looked at him as though he’d gone completely mad. “What are you doing?”

“I’m asking you to lie down. Are you so sleep-deprived you can’t follow simple instructions?”

It was hardly a subtle attempt at manipulation, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t effective. Axel slid up the couch and lied down on the cold faux-leather, clenching his jaw in an effort to hold back the litany of biting remarks that sprang to mind.

Saïx picked his binder up and flicked through it carefully, until at last he came to a stop somewhere towards the back.

“ _June 4th, 2004,”_ Saïx read out. “ _Location: Agrabah. Objectives: three question marks and a phallic symbol. Observations: very hot. Sand gets everywhere. Everywhere._ Capitalised and underlined.”

Saïx flipped the paper round to show Axel the word, written twice as large as the rest of the page.

“Is that—” Axel peered at it curiously. “—one of Demyx’s old Mission Reports?”

Saïx hummed. “I will admit… Demyx’s Mission Reports are somewhat of a guilty pleasure of mine.”

Axel shot him an incredulous look. “You’d never have guessed with the way you’re always yelling at him about them.”

“He is one of the most tiresome people I have ever had the misfortune to work with,” Saïx replied, tucking the sheet back into the plastic wallet and turning to the next page. “Had I not found some small semblance of entertainment amidst all the moronic things he does… I think I may well have gone mad by now.”

“How very gracious of you,” Axel said, lightly sarcastic.

“When you grow up with an idiot, you learn to adapt.” Saïx gave Axel a pointed look.

“I’d like to remind you I’m free to leave at any time,” Axel said, rolling his eyes.

Saïx pulled out the next sheet of paper and began to read. This was followed by another, and then another, Axel’s sarcastic comments getting fewer and further between with each one. Saïx began to feel his own eyelids become heavy, his body sliding lower and lower until eventually he was side by side with Axel, their bodies pressed together on the creaky old examination couch that had most definitely not been designed for two.

Saïx’s eyes flicked over Axel’s features, trying to determine whether he was sleeping. He hadn’t said anything in a while, which was enough of a rarity that it was probably safe to assume Axel was, in fact, asleep, but each time Saïx made to sit back up and head to bed, the rickety old frame creaked loudly in protest, and Saïx’s eyes flicked back over to Axel to make sure his eyelids hadn’t flown open in response.

Saïx fell asleep with his body draped precariously over the edge of the couch, his binder still clutched close to this chest.

* * *

Axel couldn’t remember the last time he’d dreamt. He suspected it had something to do with the brevity of his sleep; that he simply couldn’t maintain unconsciousness for long enough for dreams to form. Sleep came in brief snatches; dozing off towards the end of Xemnas’ meetings before Roxas woke him up with an elbow to the ribs, or a few minutes’ napping at the top of the clocktower before someone came bounding round the corner with a fist full of ice-cream.

So it came as a surprise when Axel woke up the next day and realised that not only did he feel, if not refreshed, at least not as mind-numbingly exhausted as normal, but also that his sleep had been interwoven with something that seemed suspiciously like a dream.

It slipped from his grasp the moment he woke up, left only with the handful of fragments he’d managed to snatch as he swam back into consciousness. He remembered the smell better than anything; crisp and fresh, like soap and cotton and cool winter air. The sound of soft breathing. The colour blue. The cool touch of icy fingertips.

Vexen’s lab was one of the few rooms in the Castle that held a clock, and Axel realised with a sudden jolt that it was one in the afternoon. He’d missed Mission Duty by a long shot. Axel wasn’t sure which was more surprising; that he’d actually managed a full night’s sleep (and then some), or that he’d skived Mission Duty without Saïx coming down there to drag him out by the hood of his coat.

Saïx.

The mention of his name seemed to pull at Axel’s memory, and he found himself presented with a grainy image of Saïx lying next to him on Vexen’s examination couch, somehow managing to look stiff and awkward even in sleep.

A strange dream indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update is a little overdue! Uni has been chaotic and my mental health took a big dip, so this chapter has been the product of a few brief spurts of clarity amidst what’s basically been a month-long brain fog.  
> For anyone who’s still reading, I felt like I should give you a heads-up on my plan for this fic. I wanted to emphasise that although this fic follows the canon timeline/events (and I want to keep as close to that as possible), it’s not really strictly canon-compliant in the sense of “This definitely could have happened in canon”. This becomes more apparent after this chapter, and mental health themes become more prominent. I appreciate that these things may be off-putting for some people, so I wanted to give you a heads-up on that now.  
> Finally, I’ve been aiming for an update schedule of every 1-2 weeks, but due to the current… Everything, I’ll probably be updating less often for a while. I wanted to emphasise that even if updates take longer than normal, this fic isn’t being abandoned – it’s close to my heart, and I’m finishing this thing if it bloody well kills me


	9. Kindling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this update wouldn't come for another few weeks, but here I am, making terrible decisions and writing fanfiction instead of actually getting some work done lmao
> 
> TW: disordered thoughts and behaviours related to eating, physical injury

Saïx dreamt of Xemnas’ office. The room was dark but for the flickering of flames in the fireplace, a huddle of orange in the expanse of darkness, like the very last dregs of sunset poking up past the horizon. The logs being burnt were still wet; he could smell the pungent scent of damp wood, carried in a layer of smoke that caught in his throat, thick and choking. The heat lay heavy against the exposed skin on his face, his neck. It felt as though someone had wrapped their hands around his throat and squeezed, tight and hard and unforgiving. The kindling crackled beneath the flames, and Saïx was reminded of the sickening snap of bones breaking, one after the other after the other after the other—

The couch creaked loudly when Saïx jolted awake, but Axel didn’t stir next to him. He could feel the heat radiating off of him, just like it always did, but now it felt too much like the fire from his dream; like at any moment, the smoke would catch in his throat and his lungs would start to burn once again. Saïx slipped off the couch and slank quietly out of the room, the fabric of his clothes sticking uncomfortably to the sheen of sweat on his skin.

In the coolness of the corridor, the racing of Saïx’s pulse calmed. Everything was quiet and still and _cold_ , the chill of the air soothing on his skin, and Saïx was reminded faintly of the way his mother had rubbed gentle circles into his back as a child, cold hands easing his nightmares away. But even as his breathing evened out and the sweating of his palms came to a stop, it felt as though the pieces of his body hadn’t quite managed to put themselves back where they should be. Something unpleasant had settled in his stomach, something Saïx was sure wasn’t meant to be there, flickering hot and uncomfortable like the flames from Xemnas’ fireplace.

“It invites certain questions, when I see you skulking about the castle at such an hour.”

Saïx stilled, feeling the rate of his pulse pick up again.

“If it were anyone else, I may even call it suspicious.”

Saïx’s eyes flickered almost involuntarily in the direction of the voice. The doorway to Xemnas’ chambers was open, and he stood with eyes fixed on Saïx, unblinking, fully dressed and immaculately put together despite the early hour. Saïx could just make out the fireplace behind him, flickering gently, the dull orange glow illuminating the space around Xemnas’ silhouette.

“It’s no cause for concern. There were… matters to attend to, before I retired for the night. I apologise if I woke you.”

There was a slight rasp to his voice, as though hot smoke had burnt his throat, and Saïx felt his stomach twist uncomfortably at the sound of it.

“No need. I was already awake. A stroke of good fortune, hm? It’s not often we find ourselves with the time to simply enjoy each other’s company.”

Xemnas turned to the side so he no longer took up the frame of the doorway, gesturing towards Saïx as though inviting him into the room. Saïx, having never once entertained the idea that Xemnas’ company could be in any way enjoyable, looked at him uncertainly, struggling to think of a polite way of saying _no way in hell._

“I— The offer is much appreciated, but I fear my company will leave much to be desired after such a long day. Perhaps some other time—”

“It wasn’t an offer.” Xemnas’ eyes bore deeply into Saïx’s, communicating the true meaning of the words; _it wasn’t an offer – it was a command._

Saïx nodded wordlessly and stepped into the room, Xemnas shutting the door behind him with a click that felt strangely threatening. At Xemnas’ command, he took a seat on the very edge of the nearest armchair. The heat from the fire washed over him, but the sweat that broke out on his skin felt ice cold.

“Would you say I’m a fair man, Saïx?”

Xemnas had busied himself with something out of Saïx’s line of sight, the question hanging in the air oddly, as though the room itself had spoken.

“Of course.”

“Do you feel at ease in my company?”

Saïx blinked in surprise, unsure what the right answer was.

Xemnas seemed to sense his hesitation, and let out a short laugh that made Saïx’s skin prickle uneasily. Xemnas reappeared then, carrying a metal tea tray that tinkled quietly as he moved, and set it down on the table in front of Saïx.

“There is no wrong answer, Saïx. All I want is your honesty.”

Saïx didn’t believe that for a second.

“As my superior… an ‘easy’ relationship with you is perhaps inappropriate. But I appreciate your company nonetheless.”

Xemnas hummed in response as he stirred the pot of tea. “Ah, ever the diplomat. A simple ‘no’ would suffice.”

A spike of something not quite strong enough to be called panic rose in Saïx’s chest. “I didn’t mean—”

“No, no. We all have our place in the Organisation. It would be remiss of me to expect you to view me in the same way as, say… Axel.”

Saïx registered that the feeling was definitely strong enough to be called panic now. Xemnas filled a cup with tea and held it out in front of him for several long seconds, until the firing of Saïx’s nerves calmed down enough for him to register he was meant to take hold of it.

“What is Axel to you, Saïx?”

Xemnas’ voice was gentle and lilting, as though he were asking the question for no reason other than to make pleasant conversation. Saïx was almost insulted that Xemnas didn’t seem to realise he knew better.

Saïx took a sip of tea to stall for time and immediately regretted it, the heat sitting heavily in his stomach. It felt as though the flames from the fireplace were burning him from the inside out.

“I’m sure you don’t want to hear about the intricacies of my interpersonal relationships. What are you really asking?”

Xemnas smiled, sickly sweet. “Ah, you always were one of our more astute members.”

Saïx mentally catalogued the other members of the Organisation, and had to resist the urge to say that there wasn’t exactly much competition.

“Then, I will be frank with you,” Xemnas continued. “I was reviewing some documents the other day, and I came across an interesting pattern. Tell me, on what grounds do you grant our members relief from their duties?”

“Illness, injury. I can assure you I’m quite stringent with the matter.” Saïx’s lip curled. “The other members will attest to that, I’m sure.”

“I see,” Xemnas replied, staring thoughtfully into his teacup. “I ask because Axel seems to have been granted far more vacation days than any other member in the Organisation, by quite a margin. Do you know anything about that?”

Saïx fiddled clumsily with his teacup, suddenly filled with a nervous energy. His fingers were slick with sweat, a combination of the heat of the fire and the intensity of Xemnas’ gaze, and the teacup nearly slipped from his grasp on several occasions.

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh? I find that hard to believe, from someone as _astute_ as you.”

Saïx clenched his jaw.

“So, I see only two explanations for this,” Xemnas continued. “The first being that the nature of your relationship with Axel is, so to speak… inappropriate. I’m sure you’ll agree that it would be unfair of me to allow any preferential treatment to continue.” Xemnas paused to take a sip of tea. “And the alternative being that Axel finds himself incapacitated far more often than the other members of the Organisation, which is, of course, a cause for concern equally in need of intervention.”

“Intervention?” Saïx repeated. “You can hardly prevent injury simply by _intervening_.”

“Well, of course I can’t _prevent_ injury,” Xemnas replied, his voice once again taking on the cloying sweetness of false pleasantry. “But there are ways of ensuring our members will continue working despite it. And, of course, should that not suffice… It may be in their best interests to be relieved of their duties here altogether. One way or another.”

The cup slipped from Saïx’s grip at last, tea spilling onto the fabric of his coat as he fumbled at it with unsteady hands. Xemnas tutted disapprovingly, as though Saïx were no better than a toddler throwing food onto the floor, but he was too preoccupied with the jumble of his thoughts to feel as patronised as he was sure Xemnas wanted him to.

“My apologies, Saïx,” Xemnas said, standing up to fetch a handful of tissues from across the room. “You’re tired. I’ve kept you from sleep for too long.”

Xemnas perched on the armrest of Saïx’s armchair and began to dab at his coat with the handful of tissues. Saïx sat in stunned silence, feeling oddly infantilised and entirely convinced that Xemnas was doing this purely to invoke in him that exact feeling. The touch made Saïx’s stomach turn.

“I’ll be keeping a closer eye on things from now on,” Xemnas said at last, moving from the armrest and throwing the wad of tissues into the fire. The fire emitted a thin tendril of smoke in exchange, and Saïx felt for a moment like he’d forgotten how to breathe. “You know, Saïx… my door is always open.”

“Yes,” Saïx said, the rasp in his voice returning suddenly. “Thank you. I will— Look into what you told me.”

Saïx exited the room without looking back.

As tired as he was, Saïx didn’t go straight to bed. Instead, he stood in the shower for over an hour, desperate to wash the film of sweat from his body, to scrub the heat out of his skin. It didn’t seem to make much difference; when Saïx woke up the next morning, he could still make out the acrid scent of smoke hanging heavy in his hair.

* * *

**Day 169**

Saïx stood in the doorway to Vexen’s lab, watching the gentle rise and fall of Axel’s chest. He hadn’t turned up to Mission Duty that morning, and given the solemn warnings Xemnas had issued the night before, Saïx had headed down to the lab with every intention of waking Axel up and dragging him out to the Grey Area. Now he was here though, Saïx couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. Axel needed the sleep, and Saïx was sure this was the first time in weeks he’d actually managed to get some. It could be just as long before the chance came round again.

Saïx turned for the stairs and flipped open his binder, rearranging the sheets of paper inside.

No matter. Saïx could do some _intervening_ of his own.

* * *

**Day 173**

“Did you hear? About Xion?”

Roxas threw himself down onto the ledge of the clocktower with such force that Axel had to stick out an arm to keep him from toppling over the edge.

“What? No, what happened?”

“I don’t really know.” Roxas threw his ice-cream down onto the floor, still in the wrapping, and looked at Axel with an expression that seemed dangerously close to tears. Axel felt a stab of panic in his chest; he’d accumulated an impressive variety of skills over the years, but dealing with a crying teenager was most definitely not one of them.

“Whoa,” Axel said, placing one hand on Roxas’ shoulder and using the other to pick up his discarded ice-cream. “First thing’s first: ice-cream is not the enemy. Here.” Axel peeled off the wrapper and offered the stick to Roxas. “Eat. You’ll feel better.”

Roxas took the stick and bit into it viciously.

“Okay. Start from the beginning. What’s going on?”

“I saw Luxord this morning,” Roxas began. “He said Xion messed up a mission. Now she’s asleep and she won’t wake up.”

“Right.” Axel shuffled uncomfortably on the ledge of the clocktower. “Well, I get why you’re so upset now.”

“What if she _never_ wakes up?”

“She will,” Axel said, and he meant it. “Do we know what’s wrong with her?”

“Nope. Saïx just said she was ‘defective’.”

Axel's advice appeared to have worked. Roxas’ ice-cream was nearly gone now, and his anger had seemed to dissipate along with it, as though each bite cooled the heat of his anger a little more.

Now though, Axel could see it return with renewed vigour, the stick in Roxas’ hand shaking with the violence of it.

“He said things, Axel. _Terrible_ things. Like he didn’t understand— Like it didn’t even _matter_ —”

Axel placed an arm around Roxas’ shoulders, unsure what else to do, and was relieved to find that Roxas’ shaking seemed to still under his touch.

“Roxas, you gotta understand, Saïx has a way about him that can be kinda easy to… misinterpret. I know a lot of the stuff he says comes across as rude, but he’s just… not really a people person, I guess. You gotta learn to speak his language.”

“You don’t get it,” Roxas said, fidgeting under Axel’s arm. “It wasn’t even like he just didn’t like her. It was like… he couldn’t understand why anyone ever would. He treats her like she isn’t even a person.”

“I can talk to him, if you want me to—”

“No.” Roxas pulled out from under Axel’s arm and dragged his knees up to his chest. “It’s weird that you guys are so close.”

Axel opened his mouth to deny it, but Roxas didn’t let him speak.

“He’s _awful,_ Axel. I know you said he used to be different… but I don’t get how you can be anything even close to friends with someone like him. You don’t even care what he said about Xion. You’re sitting here making excuses for him.”

“I’m not making excuses—”

“You _are._ ”

“Look, Roxas, it’s too complicated for you to understand.”

Roxas stood up suddenly and opened up a Dark Corridor.

“It seems pretty simple to me.”

There was silence in his wake.

Axel sighed. He spent a moment looking at his own ice-cream, dripping sadly onto the red of the bricks, then pushed it into the ground, _hard_ , suddenly overcome with an anger of his own. He scrubbed the stick across the stone, the harsh grating setting his teeth on edge as he tried to scrape every last drop of ice-cream off of it, until finally the stick snapped in two and he flung it into the air in front of him.

His advice might have worked for Roxas, but it sure as hell wasn't working for _him._

* * *

**Day 175**

Saïx had always enjoyed the peace and quiet. Although he had never admitted this to anyone but Lea, there was something about loud noises that made him feel deeply unsettled. He had always avoided Radiant Garden’s firework displays, or the hustle and bustle of the town centre on market day. Lea had been banned from his kitchen the moment he proved that setting fire to breakfast had not been a one-off, the blaring of the smoke alarm ringing loudly in his ears long after it had been smashed off the ceiling in blind panic with one of Isa’s shoes.

There was one exception to this rule, and that was the kettle. The roar of the water as it came to a boil was comforting in a way Saïx couldn’t explain. He was glad for it now, as he sat with arms draped over the tabletop, the rumble of the kettle the only sound punctuating the stillness of the late night air.

The roar of the kettle came to a crescendo. By the time Saïx had poured his tea, mug clutched tight with both hands, the sound had tapered off completely. Peace and quiet never returned, however; Saïx turned round from the counter to find Axel, the very antithesis of peace and quiet, watching him from the doorway.

Axel walked into the kitchen and dropped into a seat at the table. His eyes were narrowed, face tight; Saïx got the impression he hadn’t simply wandered in here by chance on another one of his late-night strolls through the corridors.

“I wanna talk to you.”

Saïx let out a noise that might have been a laugh if it weren’t so devoid of humour. “That’s unusual.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Saïx didn’t reply, but fixed Axel with a hard look that made it very clear what his answer to that question was. Axel stared back, his expression a mirror image of Saïx’s. The answer to the question hung silently in the air between them.

_Yours._

Saïx scoffed. The mug of tea still sat warm and steaming in his hand, but he turned around to flick the kettle back on anyway.

“I’m making tea. Do you want some?”

Axel blinked in surprise for a moment, the hardness of his stare disappearing abruptly, before regaining his composure enough to wrinkle his nose. “Don’t you have any coffee?”

Axel could just make out the raising of Saïx’s eyebrows behind the veil of steam from his mug.

“You can barely sleep as it is. Do you have a death wish?”

Axel rolled his eyes. “I’m not here to talk about that. I’m here about Xion. I wanna know what’s going on with her. And don’t give me another one of your dumb word salads that don’t tell me anything. I want _answers_.”

“How can you expect me to answer any of your questions when you don’t answer any of mine?”

Axel threw his arms up in exasperation. “I shouldn’t have to bargain with you just to get a straight answer! Isn’t it enough that I already do all your dirty work?” The volume of Axel’s voice lowered. “Don’t you think you owe me _something?_ What even am I to you?”

Saïx felt something strange surge through his body, and he hastily put the mug down on the counter before he could embarrass himself by dropping it.

_What is Axel to you, Saïx?_

Axel’s words echoed Xemnas’ question so closely that Saïx felt a chill run down his spine. This was far from the first time Saïx had been asked this, but it was a question he had never answered. Not even to himself.

“Lord Xemnas spoke to me,” Saïx began.

Axel slammed his hands down on the table in irritation. “Are you seriously gonna just ignore all that?”

He scraped back his chair suddenly, the noise harsh and loud. Saïx felt his skin crawl in response.

“Don’t. This is important,” Saïx replied, moving swiftly towards the doorway to block Axel’s exit.

“I don’t care.”

“Lord Xemnas—”

“Jeez, do you have to call him that? You don’t have to suck up to him when he’s not even here.”

Saïx growled low in his throat. “ _Listen to me—”_

“Oh, so you _do_ understand how a conversation’s meant to work—”

Axel stepped forward, knocking into Saïx’s shoulder in an effort to move past him, but Saïx grabbed onto his arms, wrapping his hands around Axel’s wrists and squeezing so hard the veins in Axel’s hands began to engorge.

“What are you _doing_?” Axel asked, trying furiously to tug his arms out from Saïx’s grip. Saïx watched expressionless, his grasp getting tighter still until even Saïx’s own hands were starting to hurt from it. After several seconds, it became clear that this was a fight Axel was not going to win, and Saïx could feel Axel’s body go limp under his touch.

Axel looked up at Saïx and spoke again, voice quiet. “You’re hurting me.”

The look in Axel’s eyes suggested he wasn’t just talking about the fingers around his wrists.

Saïx blinked, then dropped Axel’s arms abruptly. He took a step back, and Axel mirrored him, each staring at the other in wary silence.

“I can’t afford you any more time off,” Saïx said at last. “Lord Xemnas is interfering. He’s singled you out.”

Axel dropped back down into his chair, gazing up at Saïx with tired eyes.

“What do you mean, he’s singled me out?”

“For special treatment, or…” Saïx paused for a moment, struggling to think of a way to phrase it that wouldn’t elicit another explosive response. “…a disproportionate number of injuries. It’s serious, Axel. He’s making threats.”

Axel moved his arms under the table so Saïx couldn’t see him rubbing at the angry red marks on his wrists. “Let him. What’s he gonna do? Send me on another crappy mission?” Axel’s voice turned sarcastic. “Oh, the horror.”

“No. You’re not getting it.” Saïx walked back over to the abandoned cup of tea on the counter and tipped it down the sink, flicking the kettle back on once again. “I told you it’s serious.” Saïx swallowed hard. “Please don’t make me be more explicit.”

Axel felt his chest twinge. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard Saïx use the word ‘please’.

“Well what do you want me to do about it? You’re the one who gives out time off, not me. God forbid I be allowed to make any decisions round here.”

Saïx’s brow furrowed. “I give you time off because you _need_ it. I don’t know what’s going on with you lately, but you need to fix it. If you’re keeping secrets from me, fine. But talk to _someone._ It can’t carry on.”

Axel looked uncomfortable. He didn’t reply, and Saïx made no attempt to fill the silence, both staring uneasily at the floor while the kettle rumbled steadily in the background.

Saïx had made another pot of tea by the time Axel spoke.

“You’ve still not told me about Xion. I’m not leaving without an answer.”

“It doesn’t concern you.”

“So? You’re always asking me questions that don’t concern _you.”_

Saïx placed a mug of tea in front of Axel on the table. Axel frowned at it for a moment, then pushed it away.

“Number 14 is entirely unimportant. I don’t understand why you’re asking. Perhaps if you spent less time worrying about such insignificant matters, you might have less trouble sleeping.”

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Axel replied. “It’s not gonna work. I’m not just gonna get angry and leave. I want answers.”

“Fine,” Saïx said, resuming his position next to the counter. “Answer me one question, and I will answer yours.”

Axel shrugged.

“During my conversation with Lord Xemnas… he asked what you were to me, and I found myself unable to answer. Tell me. What would you have said, had the positions been reversed?”

“You know what, Saïx?” Axel said, suddenly sitting up straighter. “I’m not sure. But right now, if you pushed me for an answer? I’d say you’re an _asshole_.”

Saïx had expected the worst, but it didn’t make the disappointment sting any less. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep it from showing on his face.

“Because I see Number 14 for what they really are?” Saïx said, once he’d taken a moment to compose himself. “I’m not at liberty to divulge all of Lord Xemnas’ secrets. But if you knew the truth, I suspect you would see things my way. You’re wasting your time. That thing is barely a person.”

“That was uncalled for.”

“I told you. Keep out of this.”

“And I told _you,_ ” Axel said, gritting his teeth, “that I have to know what’s the deal with Xion. If there’s something going on, just be _straight_ with me for once, will you?”

Saïx caught Axel’s eye, his gaze intense. “Do you mean just like you are always honest with me?”

Axel looked away. His gaze fell on the cup of tea sitting untouched on the table in front of him, and he dipped a finger into the liquid, swirling it in lazy circles. “Well, you got me there I guess.”

Saïx tried not to show his distaste as he watched Axel ruin a perfectly good cup of tea.

“Xion has no right to be among our number.”

“What do you mean?”

Saïx bit back the answer.

“It’s plain to see. I have nothing more to say.”

Saïx left the room.

Axel stared into the cup in front of him long after the tea had gone cold.

* * *

_Isa was already there when Lea arrived, perched on the edge of the wall with his legs swinging lazily into the air._

_“Sorry I’m late,” Lea said, dumping his bag onto the floor. “I overslept.”_

_“Nothing new there,” Isa replied, rolling his eyes. “You know I always tell you to meet me fifteen minutes earlier than I plan on turning up, and I_ still _always get here before you.”_

_“Hey!” Lea said, expression indignant. “What if I’m on time one day? Then I’ll have to sit here waiting all on my own.”_

_“Hm? What’s that? Not keen on getting a taste of your own medicine?_ ” _Isa replied, grinning triumphantly._

_Lea didn’t reply, too busy hauling himself up onto the wall next to Isa and shuffling along the ledge until they were side by side._

_“You’re, uh, sitting very close.” Isa could feel Lea’s gaze on him, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to meet his eyes._

_“Am I?”_

_If Isa had turned his head in Lea’s direction, he would have known from the devilish smile on his face that he was perfectly aware of just how close he was sitting._

_“Yeah,” Isa replied, swallowing hard. Lea was so close he could feel their thighs brushing together with each swing of his legs._

_There had been more of this, lately. The closeness. Ever since Lea’s birthday. Neither had spoken about what happened that night; the way they’d stayed nestled against each other late into the night, hand in hand and revelling in the feeling of it. It was not until the sky began to lighten with the first rays of the morning sun that they pulled themselves apart and stumbled home, Lea dragging Isa by the hand as he leapt onto benches and swung around streetlights. They had finally parted ways on Isa’s doorstep, and for one brief, terrifying, magical moment, Isa had been sure Lea was about to kiss him._

_He didn’t, though. Several weeks had passed now, and Isa had convinced himself the moment had been either a drunken trick of the mind, or some kind of strange joke that he’d been too out of it to understand. Regardless, Lea seemed to have been emboldened by the evening, and Isa found himself being treated with a much more tactile type of affection than he was used to. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. Was it a natural progression in their friendship? Was it Lea’s way of poking fun at the things they’d done when they were drunk? It was only when Isa lay in bed at night that he allowed himself to entertain the thought that maybe it meant something more than that. It felt safer to think those thoughts only in bed; bed was a place for dreaming, and the possibility that Lea might actually reciprocate his feelings felt like one of the wildest dreams of all. Taking those thoughts with him out into the real world would mean that it was not simply a fantasy, but an actual, possible hope, and hoping was something Isa didn’t dare do._

_Hopes could be shattered, after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is one I've been looking forward to writing!! But I'm still a bit snowed under with life at the moment so again, I want to warn that it might take a little while (this chapter came out faster than anticipated purely because I've been procrastinating on all the work that's been piling up lmao). Thanks to everyone who's had the patience to stick with this thing up to now! <3


	10. Ecchymosis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: potentially triggering descriptions of bodies and body size, discussions of disordered eating behaviours, discussions of physical injury

**Day 193**

“ _Well that didn’t take long. Did it break again?”_

Roxas mimicked Saïx with the kind of uncanny resemblance that could only come with extensive practice. Axel shot him a scrutinising look from across the room, wondering who exactly it was he’d been doing that impression for. It was the first time _he’d_ heard it.

“He’s _unbearable,”_ Roxas continued, his voice sounding like his own again.

Axel crossed his arms behind his head, gazing up at Xion’s bedroom ceiling. “Yeah, he is.”

“You should give him another black eye,” Roxas said. “You’re the only one that can get away with it.”

“I promised I wouldn’t do it again.”

It slipped out before he could stop himself. Axel was distracted tonight; the events of the day clung to him like a hangover, Saïx’s words throbbing in his head and churning in his stomach.

_Does the past mean nothing to you?_

“Huh? You promised?” Roxas eyed him suspiciously. “What else have you promised him?”

The door to the bathroom clicked open then and Xion emerged, ruffling a towel through her damp hair.

“What are you guys talking about?”

“Nothing.”

“Saïx.”

Axel looked at Roxas as though he’d just said a particularly colourful curse word.

There was silence for a moment as Xion settled cross-legged between Axel and Roxas, pulling a blanket off the bed and dragging it onto the floor with her. There was something odd in the atmosphere – it had been like that all evening – and Axel was struggling to figure out exactly what it was. It should have been a happy occasion; it was the first day they’d spent together since Xion had finally woken up, and now they were sitting together on the floor of Xion’s bedroom, with the whole of the evening ahead of them to do nothing but enjoy each other’s company. Still, Axel could feel something hanging over him, the air charged with something deeply uncomfortable but barely tangible, like the tiny pinpricks of static electricity or the heavy pressure of a looming rainstorm.

“Axel, I need to ask you something.”

Roxas picked up the other end of Xion’s blanket and shuffled under it with her, avoiding Axel’s gaze. The words settled like a ball of lead in Axel’s stomach.

“What’s up? Did something happen?”

Axel watched as Xion picked up the edge of the blanket and wrapped it snug around their waists, cocooning the two of them together. It was the kind of sight that might ordinarily have made him smile, but Roxas’ question had tied his stomach in knots. He hated that the first thing that came to mind was _Saïx_ – that Roxas had once again been on the receiving end of yet another cruel and entirely undeserved punishment.

“Nah, it’s just… This is gonna sound stupid.”

Axel waited.

“Do you know what love is?”

Axel choked on his own saliva. _“What?”_

Roxas’ cheeks dusted with a subtle shade of pink. “I found out about love on today’s Mission. I know it’s something powerful. But I don’t really… get it.”

Axel was so overwhelmed by the question that he didn’t even have it in him to feel relieved that it was nothing to do with Saïx’s latest misdemeanours. He scratched the back of his neck.

“Ah, man, you’re asking the wrong guy about this one. Go ask Xaldin. He’s got _plenty_ to say about it.”

Roxas huffed. “He’s the one who confused me in the first place.”

Axel sat up then, running a hand through his hair. “Look, love is—it’s what happens if there’s something special between two people.”

“You mean, like, if they’re best friends?”

“Well, you can care about your friends, I guess, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

Roxas pouted. “I still don’t get it.”

“It’s like… when you’re in love, you’re best friends, right? But that’s not all you are. There’s more. It’s like… a whole other level. Something even deeper.”

Roxas somehow managed to look even more confused than he did before, but Xion nodded knowingly, leaning forward with an eager expression.

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Jeez, isn’t that kind of a personal question?” Axel replied, looking uncharacteristically flustered. He ran one hand through his hair, then the other, then shuffled them around restlessly in his lap as though unsure what to do with them.

Xion looked up at him, wide-eyed and innocent. “We’re not allowed to ask those?”

Axel shrugged. “Ask away. But I have the right to remain silent, got it memorised?”

“Okay.” Xion paused for a moment, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Has Saïx ever been in love?”

Axel’s eyes widened. “Where did _that_ come from?”

“Yeah,” Roxas chimed in. “How’s _that_ meant to work? Saïx doesn’t even have any _friends_.”

Axel’s chest twisted.

“He did at one point,” Xion pointed out, puffing out her chest defensively. “Axel said they used to be friends. He could’ve had other friends, too.” Xion turned back to face Axel. “Did he?”

“Uh, no, not really.”

Roxas sat back, looking vindicated. “Not surprising.”

“Hey,” Axel said, suddenly sounding defensive. “I told you, he wasn’t always like this. You guys would’ve liked him, if you’d met him before.” Axel’s shoulders slumped a little, losing some of the strength to his voice. “You’d have liked him a whole lot.”

Xion seemed to perk up, suddenly sitting up straighter. “Tell us,” Xion said. “Make him feel more… human.”

Axel came out with the first thing that came to mind.

“He liked ducks.”

“Huh?” Roxas asked, looking confused once again.

“He used to make us go feed them at the park. He went so often they started to recognise him. Started waddling out of the pond as soon as they saw him walking down.”

Xion’s eyes shone. “Tell us another one.”

“He’s scared of bees,” Axel said. Roxas started to snigger, but stopped abruptly when Axel shot him a warning look. “I used to tease him about it. Told him it’s the size of his fingernail, what’s it gonna do? Then one day, he got stung and he couldn’t _breathe._ Spent two days in the hospital. I still feel kinda bad about that now.”

Roxas and Xion watched Axel in silence, enraptured.

“I dragged him to a party once, and some kid got drunk and kept trying to kiss me. Wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Axel’s voice sounded faraway. “The guy came to class on Monday with a bust lip and a broken nose.”

“That one’s much easier to imagine,” Roxas deadpanned.

Xion looked deep in thought. “Hey, Axel,” she began. “Has Saïx ever kissed anyone?”

Axel started, caught off guard. “Ah, that kinda stuff really isn’t my place to tell.” A pang of guilt had already slipped its way into his stomach, unsure whether Saïx would be comfortable with him divulging all of this information. They weren’t secrets, as such, but up to now, they had belonged to only the two of them; theirs, and theirs alone.

Xion pouted. “Please?”

“If you want an answer so bad, why don’t you go ask him?” Axel leaned back on his hands, grinning at their matching horror-struck expressions.

“Hey,” Roxas said, leaning forward suddenly. “What’s that?”

Axel followed the direction of Roxas’ gaze down to his arms. The sleeves of his coat had ridden up as he reached back, laying bare the dark purple bruises that stretched across the skin of his forearms.

“It’s nothing,” Axel replied. He pulled his arms back into himself, tugging his sleeves down hastily and avoiding their gazes. “Anyway—”

“Axel,” Xion said, throwing the blanket off of herself and shuffling across the floor to sit next to him. “Let me see.”

Axel made a show of rolling his eyes. “Fine,” he said, shoving his sleeves roughly up his arms. “So I had a little trouble with a Heartless, big deal—”

“No,” Xion said. Her voice was quiet as she tentatively picked up one of Axel’s arms and laid it across her lap. She traced her fingers over the bruise with one hand, her touch so gentle that Axel might not have known she was touching him if he hadn’t been able to see it. “This is from a person, Axel.”

Axel felt a shiver pass through his shoulders. Her voice was so small, so soft, but so packed full of _hurt_ that it made his chest physically ache.

Roxas came to sit on Axel’s other side, inspecting his other arm but not touching it, his hands balled in fists at his sides. “This was Saïx.”

It wasn’t a question.

“It looks worse than it is,” Axel muttered. “It was a shitty thing to do, but it was a genuine accident.”

“How can _that_ be an accident?” Roxas asked, the volume of his voice getting louder.

“It was a full moon,” Axel said. “It has an effect on him. On his strength. He let go when I told him it hurt.”

Roxas and Xion seemed to deflate beside him; while no one was quite sure what exactly it did, Saïx’s ties to the moon were well known within the Organisation. Axel could feel the energy in the room start to calm, the anger draining out of the air, but the expressions on their faces told him they were still deeply unhappy about it.

“I don’t think he’s the same person anymore, Axel,” Roxas said after a moment. “I know you want to believe that he is… but how can you go from feeding ducks to _that?_ ”

Axel hastily shoved down the sleeves of his coat, suddenly feeling overexposed.

“I know,” Axel muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.

_Does the past mean nothing to you?_

Maybe, Axel thought, the past meant a whole lot more to him than it should.

* * *

_The bottle came to a stop right in the middle of Isa and the boy sitting next to him, and Lea broke out into a smirk._

_“I guess you guys gotta fight over who gets to kiss me,” he announced, leaning back on his hands and watching them with an easy grin._

_“Pass,” the boy said, wrinkling his nose as he turned to Isa. “He’s all yours.”_

_“What? I—” Isa’s eyes flicked rapidly between the boy and Lea, feeling panic rise in his chest. “What do you mean_ pass _?” he continued. Isa shot the boy an incredulous look. It felt as though he’d just been offered a golden ticket and had chosen to toss it straight into the gutter._

_“Not interested,” he replied. “Would you hurry up? You’re holding up the game.”_

_Isa turned his attention back towards Lea, who was staring back at him with an expression that, to Isa’s unbearable frustration, was entirely unreadable._

_“Well?” Lea said, drawling out the words. “You gonna kiss me or not?”_

_Isa could feel his heart hammering hard inside of him, so wildly that he half-believed he would wake up tomorrow with bruises to the wall of his chest. It was the hardest he had ever felt it beat; even harder than the time Lea had brought him over for a sleepover and told him they were sharing a bed – an impressive feat, considering that Isa’s heart had been beating so hard at that point that he’d had to sit down and sip quietly at a glass of water._

_“This is boring.” The boy sat beside Isa reached forward and span the bottle again. “Let’s just redo it.”_

_Lea’s eyes never left Isa’s as they waited for the bottle to stop spinning. There was an expression on his face that he was sure he’d never seen before, but before he could figure out what it was, the bottle stopped spinning and Lea reluctantly tore his gaze away._

_Isa didn’t mind so much when Lea started kissing the girl the bottle had landed on. It was over in a couple of seconds, and Isa had fixed his gaze firmly to the floor so he wouldn’t have to see it happen, wouldn’t have to suffer the image of Lea with his lips pressed to someone else’s resurfacing in memories that refused to be forgotten._

_He did mind, however, when he walked into the kitchen half an hour later to find Lea kissing her once again, her legs wrapped tight around his waist as she sat perched on the edge of the countertop._

_Isa didn’t tell Lea he was leaving. He simply wrenched open the door, thinking, as he spared them another glance, that Lea didn’t look much like he’d have noticed, anyway._

_Isa only made it halfway down the street when he found himself sinking down onto somebody’s garden wall, suddenly overwhelmed._

_For the first time in years, Isa cried._

* * *

It was getting unbearable now.

Axel sat up in bed, pressing his fists into his eyes until flashes of colour burst across his eyelids. It hurt a little.

He let his fists drop to his sides, then suddenly drew one back and thrust it into the wall. That hurt, too.

Much more than a little.

He felt like he was one bad night’s sleep away from becoming legitimately delirious. Axel growled in frustration, ripping the bedcovers off of himself and walking out into the hallway.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Axel thought, as he stood in front of the door to Saïx’s bedroom, that this was most definitely both of those.

Axel used his left hand to knock on Saïx’s door. The other was still cradled to his chest, his knuckles bleeding sluggishly onto his pyjama top.

“Axel?”

Saïx blinked at him from the doorway. It was clear that he’d just woken up; his hair was tousled, eyes heavy with sleep, and the sight was enough to strike Axel with something that felt dangerously akin to envy. It didn’t take long for his focus to shift, however; as Axel’s eyes dropped lower, he realised that Saïx hadn’t bothered to dress before he opened the door, wearing nothing but a pair of plain black pyjamas.

There was nothing special about them whatsoever; they came as standard-issue to anyone in the Organisation, handed over with the coat and boots when they joined, but Axel hadn’t seen Saïx in anything other than his coat for so long that he found himself unable to tear his gaze away. It had been _years_ ; years since he had seen the lines of Saïx’s body, the sharp angle of his collarbones, the pale white skin of his arms. Axel almost forgot why he’d come.

For a moment, he was so taken aback he simply stood and stared.

For a moment, Saïx was so confused he simply stood and let him.

“What’s the problem?” Saïx asked eventually. The sleepiness was starting to fade from his eyes, replaced with a sense of urgency that seemed appropriate given the nature of the situation. It wasn’t everyday that Axel came knocking on his door in the middle of the night. Actually, it wasn’t _ever._

“I can’t sleep.”

Saïx stared. “Is that it?”

“It’s driving me _crazy._ The last time I slept properly…” Axel ran a hand through his hair, then realised with a grimace it was the one that was bleeding. “It was that night, down in Vexen’s lab. With you. I don’t know what you did, but… I really need you to do it again.”

“Not my problem.”

Saïx shut the door with a slam.

Disappointment wasn’t a strong enough word. Axel felt as though his brain were a bucket and the bottom had just dropped out, the contents pouring through his body all at once, flooding his system, shorting the circuits. This was his last resort, and he hadn’t even been able to give it a try.

“Saïx.” Axel knocked on the door again, the blood from his knuckles smearing across the metal.

The door flew open, and Saïx appeared once again, his face twisted into a snarl.

“Isn’t this the kind of thing that _friends_ do?” Saïx asked, practically spitting out the word. “It seems you're asking the wrong person. Or are we only friends when it suits _you?”_

Axel stared dumbly. “What?”

“You said it yourself,” Saïx replied. “When I asked you what I am to you. What was your answer?”

Axel frowned, struggling to sift through the fog of exhaustion in his mind. “I don’t remember.”

“An asshole. That’s what you said.”

“Well, yeah,” Axel replied. “But you can be both. A friend, I mean. And an asshole.”

Saïx scowled. “And what of your other _friends_? I know you were with them this evening.” His eyes darkened. “If you’re so desperate for company, I would suggest you try them.”

“It’s not the same.” Axel clenched his fists, the cuts on his knuckles stinging as the movement stretched them further open. “I don’t know why. It only works with you.”

“Oh?” A look crossed Saïx’s face that was so dark that Axel actually took a step back. “So, you’re using me. Is that all I am to you, now?”

“You know what, Saïx?" Axel asked, voice cracking slightly as the volume got louder. "It isn’t _my_ fault you’re such a _miserable_ person to be around!”

Saïx gripped the edge of the door, preparing to shut it once again, but then froze suddenly as his eyes fell on Axel’s arms. Axel was rubbing his bleeding hand angrily against the fabric of his t-shirt, smearing his hand red and sticky, but Saïx was much more preoccupied with the ugly purple bruises that wrapped around Axel’s forearms.

Axel looked up in confusion after several seconds had passed without hearing Saïx’s door slam shut. Saïx was looking at him, but his eyes didn’t seem quite focused. His face seemed even paler than usual, the lines of his scar dark and bold against the ghostly white of his skin.

Axel stepped forward tentatively.

“Saïx?"

* * *

Saïx wished he’d never seen it.

His eyes fell on the bruises around Axel’s arms, and his head swum with such a potent cocktail of emotions he had to clutch onto the edge of the doorframe to keep himself grounded.

He hated him.

_Hated_ him, despised him with a fury and a bitterness so deeply entrenched it seeped right down to his bones. He hated the way Axel thought he could pick him up and drop him whenever he liked, hated the way Axel treated him like second best – if he were _lucky._ But most of all, he hated the way he had left Saïx to deal with problem after problem for all of these years, and seemed to remember him only now that he had a problem of his own.

But Axel, for all of his mistakes, all of his wrongdoings, was still _Axel._ Axel had done plenty wrong, but so had he; the marks around Axel’s wrists were proof enough that Saïx had been far from perfect.

And after everything, Axel was still the only friend he’d ever had.

“Saïx?”

He sighed.

“You can come in, but you can’t stay.”

Saïx walked back inside and Axel trailed after him, standing in the middle of the room looking lost and out of place. Saïx’s bedroom was bigger than most, more ornate, with a few extra pieces of furniture to fill the space. A part of him thought it was strange that Axel had never seen this room before, and he found himself flooded with grainy old memories of the two of them together in Isa’s old bedroom, scribbling homework on the carpet or lounging on the bed as a film played on the television.

A small table sat under the window on the far side of the room, the empty cup of tea Saïx had drunk before bed still resting neatly on top of the coaster. There was only one chair, but it didn’t matter; Saïx walked over and moved the cup (and the coaster) onto the windowsill, then climbed up on top of the table and sat cross-legged, facing out towards the window. He didn’t bother turning around to beckon Axel over; just patted the empty space next to him and waited to feel the tell-tale warmth that came as Axel settled beside him.

“I think it’s time we talked about it.” Saïx didn’t look at Axel when he spoke, eyes trained only on the white of the moon as he stared transfixed out of the window.

“I don’t want to.”

“I know.”

Silence stretched between them. Saïx’s gaze never strayed from the window, but he could see from the corner of his eye the way the table spattered red between them as drops of blood dripped one by one from Axel’s hand.

“You don’t tell them much, do you?” Saïx asked eventually, not bothering to keep the satisfaction out of his voice.

Axel didn’t need to ask who he meant.

“Of course I don’t. They’re kids. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“So then, what is your reason for not telling _me_?”

Saïx faced Axel at last, an odd look in his eye. Axel returned his gaze, the weight of it heavy.

“Don’t do that. You know why.”

Saïx could see it in Axel’s eyes, feel it in the air between them. _Distance._ His muscles tensed as he turned back towards the window.

“Is that enough of a reason?” Saïx asked, sounding as though he were asking the question not just to Axel, but to himself. “I know something’s wrong. And ordinarily, I would say you don’t have to tell me. But I don’t know who else there is to tell.”

Axel fidgeted on the table beside him.

“Look, I didn’t come here for a heart to heart. I just wanted to sleep.”

Saïx frowned at the window.

“I’m… sorry,” he said. The words sounded mangled, as though Saïx had chewed on them at great length. “About your arms.”

Axel shrugged. “I guess we’re even now.” He tapped a finger under his eye, managing to form his lips into something resembling a grin. “An eye for an eye, huh?”

Saïx’s face was sour. “That’s not what it was.”

“I know.”

Saïx suddenly twisted around so that his body faced Axel directly.

“I haven’t seen you at dinner in a while.”

Axel shrugged. “Guess it kinda messes up your schedule, when you don’t sleep. Half the time I’m not even sure whether it’s day or night.” He scowled. “This whole place is always so dark.”

“It’s a problem,” Saïx said, his eyes coming to rest on the bruises around Axel’s arms; the way the marks stretched all the way around.

“Oh, great. Another one,” Axel said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll add it to the list.”

Saïx’s voice was hard. “I mean it. You need to eat.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Saïx climbed down off the table, walking over to the dresser on the other side of the room, his body stiff with tension. “I can see this is a pointless effort. So, you’ve got your wish. You can…” Saïx tripped over the words, clearing his throat before he continued. “…stay, if that’s what you want.”

Axel jumped down off the table immediately. “Just… whatever you did last time, do it again.”

“This is for tonight, and tonight _only_ ,” Saïx said, pulling a drawer open roughly. “This arrangement… it’s not fixing the root of the problem. Talk to me or don’t, it’s your choice. But this,” Saïx thrust a t-shirt into Axel’s arms, “is not to continue.”

Axel looked at the t-shirt in his arms, then back at Saïx blankly.

Saïx sighed.

“You’re bleeding. And handling it terribly. Have you seen yourself?” Axel looked down at the t-shirt he was wearing, and noticed for the first time that the front of it was soaked through with something wet and sticky. “Clean yourself up. I’m not having you bleed all over my furniture. You can use the one you’re wearing as a bandage.”

Axel stared at him uncertainly.

“Bathroom. Go.”

Axel made his way dutifully towards the bathroom in an uncharacteristic display of obedience.

It was several minutes before he came out again, his old t-shirt twisted clumsily around his hand. Saïx was bent over the table by the window, scrubbing it clean after Axel had had the audacity to bleed on it.

He could feel Axel’s gaze on the small of his back, the t-shirt riding up there as he bent over. Somehow, even Axel’s gaze was warm; Saïx could feel the heat of it on his skin. He turned his head, one eyebrow raised. It was obvious that Axel had been caught staring, but he made no move to avert his gaze. He always had been shameless.

“What happened to you?” Axel asked, walking closer.

For a moment, Saïx floundered at the question, turning his face away again in case it betrayed some kind of emotion. And then he felt Axel’s fingers tracing over the jut of his hip bones, and realised the question was not what he had thought. Axel had not been asking about the ever-growing divide between them, but about the twin bruises that laid stark against the milky white skin of his hips.

Saïx froze under his touch. Axel’s fingertips traced his skin gently, delicately; he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt someone touch him this way. For years, the only touches he had known were vicious and cold and utterly lacking in _heart._

Touches like the rough shoves of Axel’s hands as he pushed him away, hard and angry and entirely remorseless.

Touches like the force of Axel’s fist colliding with bone, pain bursting white hot under his skin like a frozen pipe in the winter.

Touches like the soft caress of Xemnas’ fingers down his neck, gentle and slow but not in any way tender, the promise of a threat blossoming under his fingertips as he traced his hands over fragile arteries, fingers pausing as they passed his pulse to savour the way that it raced.

Now, Axel’s touch was soft and warm, and Saïx’s pulse began to race for entirely different reasons. He felt his veins flush with the heat of arousal, and the feeling was so sudden, so _unexpected,_ that he jerked away on reflex.

_“Don’t touch me.”_

Saïx’s voice was low in his throat, almost a growl. He stepped away from the table and turned to face the wall, not trusting his face to keep from betraying his emotions. The heat in his body vanished as quickly as it had come, replaced with a nauseating stab of self-loathing. To have such feelings linger after all that had happened; to lose his composure after a touch so small, so insignificant…

Saïx clenched his fists at his sides. It felt _humiliating._

“Uh, sorry.” Saïx could hear the confusion in Axel’s voice. “I didn’t mean to cross any lines.”

For a moment, Saïx battled with the idea of simply asking Axel to leave. This room was his one sanctuary; the one place free of threats whispered in his ear like sweet nothings, of orders barked at him like a dog, of the confusing muddle of emotions that came whenever Axel was near. At the end of a long day, Saïx needed some semblance of tranquillity. Inviting Axel in was a sure-fire way of ruining any chance of _that._

He couldn’t do it, though. He turned around to find Axel looking at him expectantly, looking so pale and drawn that Saïx might have believed he was ill. Saïx sank down into the chair by the window, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

“Go to sleep.”

Axel sat down next to the pillows, looking hesitant.

“Are you…?” Axel trailed off, gesturing vaguely at the bed.

“No.” Saïx was intensely aware of the faint remnants of arousal that still thrummed in his veins, no matter how much he willed it away. The prospect of sharing a bed with Axel felt like taking a gently smouldering pile of kindling and dousing the thing in petrol.

Axel was asleep within minutes.

Saïx watched, resting his head on his arms as he leant them on the back of the chair.

Saïx hated him. He was sure of that.

But somehow, it wasn’t the hate that made Saïx’s blood run hot with anger: it was the fact that Saïx loved him, regardless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was worried that people would be concerned about where Lea's little scandal at the party was going, so I just wanted to reassure that all will become clear next chapter, worry not
> 
> I'm working a lot of nights/weekends for the next few weeks, and I have a really important exam coming up, so I'll be taking the next few weeks off writing to focus on revision (...and sleep). Hope everyone has a great holiday season in the meantime!


	11. Clandestine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a week late, in the end. Feels good to say I should be back to my regular schedule from now on.
> 
> TW: disordered thoughts/behaviours relating to eating  
> Also: This chapter is just a little tiny bit NSFW. It’s so absolutely minuscule that I wasn’t even going to warn originally, but I thought better safe than sorry.

**Day 246**

It had been several weeks since Axel had slept in Saïx’s room, but the memory of it was sharp despite the way his fatigue wrapped around his memories like a heavy blanket, the pictures in his mind’s eye growing fuzzy and slow and increasingly difficult to make sense of. Axel remembered the way he had been woken by the pitter-patter of running water drifting from behind the bathroom door, to a cup of tea steaming gently on the nightstand and a scent that was unmistakably _Saïx_ pressed into the pillows around him. It reminded him of the times he had slept at Isa’s house when they were younger, just old enough that such occasions were no longer referred to as ‘sleepovers’, choosing instead to dance around the word awkwardly until they could find a term that sounded suitably grown-up. Isa’s mother had been chastised on several occasions for continuing to use the word, but it never discouraged her from coming into Isa’s bedroom each morning with plates of breakfast and cups of tea. Lea had always been fond of her, even if a part of him had slightly resented the fact she cut short the time he could spend with Isa in the mornings, pretending to be asleep while he buried his face in Isa’s hair.

Axel wished he could go back there now, fling himself down onto Saïx’s bed and _sleep_ , but Saïx had been quick to assert that it was to be a one-time event, and Saïx had maintained that position even when Axel had called his bluff. There had only been one night in the weeks that followed when Axel had found himself knocking on Saïx’s bedroom door, but the humiliation of having the door shut in his face was not an experience he was keen to repeat.

Now, though, Axel suspected he had found a loophole.

Axel hadn’t been down to Vexen’s lab for several weeks, but he recalled that Saïx had been down there on both of his most recent visits, for reasons that Axel had frankly been too tired to ask about. And today, just as expected, when Axel poked his head around the door in the early hours of the evening, Saïx was there, sitting on the examination couch with a cup balanced precariously on top of a stack of papers.

“Are you drinking coffee?” Axel asked, sniffing the air curiously as he sank down next to him. “That’s unusual.”

Saïx flipped over a sheet of paper and scribbled something onto the page.

“Hey!” Axel nudged his shoulder into Saïx’s. “Are you _ignoring_ me? If we’re gonna be immature about this, I can be ten times more annoying than this, easy. And you know that if anything, that’s an understatement.”

Saïx shoved the sheet of paper into a plastic sleeve so aggressively that it ripped down the middle, and Axel watched on with an expression that would have been much more fitting had he just seen Saïx accidentally drop a baby onto the floor. It was a move that was startingly out of character, given that Saïx’s binder basically _was_ his baby (although Axel had been threatened with a week of overtime the last time he’d said that out loud).

“What’s with you?”

Saïx tugged another piece of paper off the stack next to him, the cup of coffee on top wobbling dangerously.

“I’m busy, Axel.”

Axel yanked the piece of paper out from under Saïx’s hand so fast that he didn’t have time to lift up his pen, the nib leaving an unsightly smear of ink across half of the page.

“Doing what?” Axel squinted at the piece of paper with an expression of such confusion that Saïx could well have been writing in hieroglyphics. “Mission Report? Why are you writing a Mission Report?”

Saïx dropped his pen into his lap with a heavy sigh.

“Because that’s what you’re _meant_ to do, in case you’d forgotten. I’m still waiting on a single report from you from last week.”

“But you don’t go on missions.”

Saïx snatched the piece of paper back out of Axel’s hand. “I do now.”

“But— why?”

“Because it’s necessary. Things are… tight, at the moment.”

Axel stayed quiet for a long moment, scrutinising Saïx closely. Something seemed _off_ , but Axel was struggling to work out exactly what. For a long time, the only noise was the scratch of Saïx’s pen as he scribbled furiously onto the paper.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Axel said eventually. “How come I keep finding you down here?”

The sudden sound of Axel’s voice startled Saïx so much that his hand jumped across the page, leaving a long blue line in its wake. Saïx dropped the pen onto the couch in frustration.

“What?”

“Every time I come, you’re here. There’s not much down here other than medical supplies, so… what’s going on?” Axel hesitated for a moment before the words would come out. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Saïx looked up from the paper at last, raising an eyebrow. “Nothing of concern.”

“You sure? You look tired.”

Saïx let out a breath of air that was almost a laugh. “I hope you realise the irony in that statement.”

Axel didn’t reply, unable to bite back given that Saïx had a point. Instead, Axel stretched his legs down the length of the couch and leant back with a sigh.

“You gonna be here a while?”

“Yes.”

Axel closed his eyes. “Perfect.”

* * *

**Day 247**

“Hey!”

The door to the kitchen opened with such force that Luxord’s plate slipped from his hand in surprise.

“Really, Axel, is it necessary—”

Axel flapped a hand at him dismissively.

“ _Not_ _now,_ Luxord.”

Luxord heaved a long-suffering sigh as he knelt down to pick up what remained of the plate. Axel walked straight past the mess on the floor, and Luxord wasn’t sure whether he just didn’t care, or whether he genuinely hadn’t even noticed.

“Saïx.”

Saïx was standing next to the toaster, leaning over a pile of papers on the countertop next to it and apparently entirely unbothered by all the commotion. Axel slammed a hand down on the piece of paper he was reading, an immediate demand for his attention.

“Do you want some toast?” Saïx asked, peering down into the toaster with an irritatingly blank expression.

“What? No,” Axel said, sounding as though Saïx had just offered to hit him over the head with his claymore. “I came because you left something behind yesterday. Thought you might want it back.”

Axel reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, shoving it into Saïx’s hand. Saïx glanced at it for several seconds, then simply turned around and began to insert it back into his binder.

“Thank you.”

“What do you mean, _thank you?_ Don’t you have anything else to say? How could you keep something like this from me?”

“It wasn’t my secret to tell.”

“So what? I thought we were—”

Axel cut himself off, glancing back over his shoulder at where Luxord knelt on the floor, sweeping up the last of his plate.

“I thought we were in this together,” Axel said, lowering his voice to no more than a gentle murmur in Saïx’s ear. “Whose side are you on here?”

“It seems rather hypocritical for _you_ of all people to talk about allegiances,” Saïx spat out.

Axel spent a good moment resisting the urge to give Saïx a knock to the head. Just as he was beginning to feel like maybe it was a losing battle, the door to the kitchen swung open, and a distraction arrived.

“Axel?” Xion asked, blinking at him in surprise as she pushed open the door. “What are you doing here?”

Axel glanced sideways at Saïx, eyes narrowed. “I was just leaving.”

“Huh? What for?”

Axel spent several seconds trying to think of an answer to that question before sinking into a chair in defeat. “Never mind.”

Xion sat down opposite, chattering happily as she poured herself a bowl of cereal. Axel didn’t take in a single word. He could see the words every time he looked at her.

_The Replica Programme._

Axel glanced over at the binder on the countertop. It was maddening to know what lay inside it; to know that Xion was only a few feet away, so close to the truth and yet so entirely oblivious. Axel was sure that the truth about Xion’s existence was far from the only secret contained within it, but he wasn’t so sure how he felt about that. His own secrets churned unpleasantly in his stomach, and he found himself feeling something that felt dangerously close to sympathy as he glanced up at Saïx, wondering if he felt the same.

He turned back round when he felt a presence beside him. Roxas had appeared while he was distracted, slumped slightly over the table and sipping at a glass of juice that he was sure had been in front of Xion the last time he’d looked.

“Why do you look like you’ve just crawled out of a grave?” Axel asked, his forehead creased.

“Good morning to you too, Axel,” Roxas replied, his tone dry. “I’m doing good, thanks for asking.”

Axel grinned apologetically. “Okay, point taken, but seriously,” Axel prodded him with his elbow. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing really.” Roxas yawned into his orange juice. “I’m just tired. Been pretty busy lately.”

Axel didn’t miss the pointed look Roxas and Xion shared with each other across the table.

“Is there something going on here?”

“Like what?”

“I dunno. You’re being weird. And _he’s_ being weird as well,” Axel said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at Saïx.

Xion put her spoon down to look at Axel properly. “I don’t know what you mean. What are we doing that’s weird?”

Axel regarded her carefully for a moment. She looked so much the picture of innocence as she sat with her eyes wide and her cheeks stuffed full of cereal, it was difficult not to believe.

“You know what,” Axel said, suddenly exhausted with the conversation, with the _secrets._ “It doesn’t even matter. Carry on.”

Before either had a chance to reply, Saïx had walked past, dropping a plate of toast in front of him and leaving without a word.

Roxas’ eyes looked like they were about to fall out of his skull.

“Since when does Saïx make you breakfast?”

“See what I mean?” Axel said, throwing up his arms dramatically. “It’s _weird._ He’s being _weird._ ”

Roxas’ gaze flicked from the plate to Axel, slightly sheepish. “You gonna eat that?”

Axel rolled his eyes good-naturedly and slid the plate across to Roxas. “Take it. Feels like poor man’s blood money to me.”

* * *

_“What do you want, Lea?”_

_Lea blinked up at him from the doorstep, forehead creased._

_“I just wanted to check you were okay. I didn’t see you much last night, and, uh…” Lea shifted his weight from one foot to the other, fiddling with the strap on his backpack. “Someone said they saw you crying outside.”_

_“What?” Isa stepped out of the doorway to join Lea on the step, shutting the door quietly behind him. “Who said that?”_

_“I dunno. A bunch of people were asking me about it last night. For like a half hour all I got was_ Lea, what did you do? _As though somehow it was_ my _fault!”_

_Isa crossed his arms, frowning at the concrete._

_“So it’s true? You were crying?” Lea let his bag slide off his shoulder and land with a thud on the floor. “Why didn’t you tell me? What happened?”_

_Lea took a step closer, tilting his head in all directions in an attempt to make eye contact. Isa’s gaze never strayed from the grey of the concrete._

_“Isa…” The word came out more like a plea. “Why are you being weird?”_

_“I’m not being weird—”_

_Lea reached out a hand and placed it gently on Isa’s shoulder in a last-ditch attempt to get Isa to look at him, but Isa wrenched himself out from under the touch, jerking away so violently that he stumbled from the step in the process._

_Lea knelt down next to him on the floor as Isa rubbed gingerly at the bump on the back of his head._

_“So that’s normal behaviour for you, huh? You fling yourself to the ground every time someone touches you?” Lea regarded Isa with raised eyebrows. “If that’s normal for you_ , _I got a helmet you can borrow that I think might come in pretty handy—"_

_Isa pushed himself up off the floor abruptly._

_“I think… You should leave me alone, for a while.”_

_The words sent a jolt through Lea’s body. He could feel it passing through each nerve, one after the other after the other, somehow both a stabbing pain and an all-encompassing numbness, like the way Lea’s hands felt when he held onto a snowball just a little too long. He tried to stand up, but his legs wouldn’t work, so instead he blinked at Isa slowly from the floor._

_“What?” Lea spluttered out. “Why?”_

_“Not— not forever. I’m not saying we shouldn’t be friends. I just… need some time alone, okay?”_

_“For how long?”_

_“I don’t know.”_

_Lea could feel a familiar burning in the back of his throat, and he swallowed hard against it, determined not to cry. “Fine, then.”_

_Isa hesitated a moment. “Sorry.”_

_Lea watched from the ground as Isa walked back inside and shut the door firmly behind him._

* * *

_It had been two whole weeks._

_It was the longest they’d ever managed. A whole two weeks without one word uttered between them. Lea had barely even seen him, and not for lack of trying. After all of his early attempts to distract himself had failed, he’d resigned himself to spending his free time lounging around outside the ice-cream shop, sucking the last of the flavour out of long-since empty ice-cream sticks and waiting for a shock of blue hair to appear around the corner. It wasn’t meant to be an ambush or anything – Isa had asked to be left alone for a while, and Lea was going to respect that, even if he wasn’t particularly happy about it. He’d just wanted to_ see _him, just for a moment, to catch a glimpse of that stupid obnoxious grin of his and know that he was doing okay._

_He never turned up, though. By the time two weeks had passed, Lea had just about had enough. Spending so many hours lying about bored out of his skull had given him plenty of time to lament the situation, and he’d come to the conclusion that none of this was_ fair. _Asking for space was one thing, but to do it without so much as an explanation? A guide as to how long this was going to go on for? A ‘don’t worry, everything’s okay’? Lea had got the distinct impression Isa was mad at him, but despite all of the hours he’d spent sitting out in the plaza, wracking his brain until his head hurt, all of his searches for a reason had ended up drawing a blank._

_Lea knew where Isa would be; the same place he always went to when he said everything was okay when it very clearly wasn’t. By the time two weeks had passed, his desire to respect Isa’s wishes had been thoroughly overwhelmed by the urge to march over there and… Lea wasn’t sure. Get a look at him? Talk to him? Grab his shoulders and pull him into a hug so tight he couldn’t breathe?_

_Lea wasn’t sure exactly what the plan was, but the heat that shone fever-bright in his eyes was a clear indicator that he wasn’t worried by that in the slightest. Everything with Isa had always come easy, after all._

_“I thought I might find you here.”_

_The sun was just starting to set, and Isa’s skin glowed a gentle orange in the light of the early evening. The fading beams of the sun were weak enough not to beat against his skin, but instead seemed to wrap themselves gently around him, softening him where he was sharp, warming him where he was cold. Lea felt an uncomfortable flutter in his chest at the sight, and he hung back at the entrance to Fountain Court, slightly afraid that if he walked any closer he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from brushing his fingers across Isa’s hand and feeling the warmth for himself._

_Isa was sat cross-legged in front of the fountain, a tower of copper coins stacked neatly in front of him. Lea watched as he picked them up and tossed them into the fountain one by one, the reflection of the setting sun burning in his eyes._

_A few minutes passed before Lea came to sit beside him. Even then, Isa’s gaze never wandered in his direction._

_“Please talk to me, Isa.”_

_Isa tossed the coin he was holding towards the top of the fountain, grunting quietly with the force behind it. Lea watched with an ache in his chest as Isa ignored him completely._

_“C’mon, I even said ‘please’. What more d’you want?”_

_Lea shuffled closer, his knee brushing against Isa’s, and Isa jerked back so abruptly that he knocked over the pile of coins in front of him._

_“Don’t.”_

_Suddenly, the ache in Lea’s chest seemed to disappear, replaced with an anger that filled him so fully he thought for a moment he might burst with it._

_“What’s your_ problem _?!” Lea yelled, so loudly that the walls echoed the question back to Isa ten times over._

_“What’s_ yours _?”_

_“You! Obviously! You haven’t talked to me in two whole weeks, and I haven’t done anything wrong!” Lea stilled for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was much quieter. “…Have I?”_

_Isa sighed, beginning to arrange the fallen coins into stacks again._

_“I suppose not. I just…” Isa sighed, rubbing at his eyes impatiently. “I wish you could just be straight with me. As soon as I feel like I have you figured out, you do something that takes me by surprise. And I like that about you, but… sometimes, it makes me feel like an idiot.”_

_Lea took a moment to digest what Isa had said. The rush of the water felt even louder than normal tonight, and he wished he could turn it down, give himself space to_ think _._

_“Is this about what happened at the party?”_

_Isa looked up from the coins at last, and Lea suddenly noticed just how tired he looked._

_“Not entirely. But… that’s a part of it, yes.”_

_“You never did tell me what was wrong.”_

_“I don’t intend to.”_

“Now _who’s not being straight with who?”_

_Isa had finished stacking the coins by now, and although the roar of the fountain never relented, the area suddenly felt quieter without the steady clinking of copper on copper. Isa picked a coin off the top of the stack and tossed it into the fountain. Lea watched in silence as Isa repeated the process, coin after coin after coin, not knowing what to say but not wanting to leave. It made Lea jump when, at long last, Isa spoke._

_“You never told me you liked her. The girl from the party.”_

_“I don’t!” Lea said, without a moment’s hesitation. “I just had a lot on my mind and, I dunno, I needed a distraction. That’s all it was.” Lea rubbed at the back of his neck. “Sorry. It sounds kinda bad when I put it like that.”_

_The memory of Isa’s panic at the thought of having to kiss him resurfaced, and Lea felt the feeling of nausea return with an uncomfortable jab. If the positions had been reversed, Lea would have jumped at the chance; would have jumped at_ Isa _, would have pinned him to the floor and pressed their lips together before anything could get in the way. Isa’s panic had felt like an unspoken rejection, and Lea had sought solace in the first place he found it._

_“I get that. I’m sorry for ignoring you. I guess… I needed a distraction too.” Isa tossed another coin into the fountain._

_“What are you doing?”_

_“If you throw a coin into a fountain, you get to make a wish.”_

_Lea glanced down at the little tower of coins by Isa’s legs. “You must have a lot of wishes to make.”_

_Isa picked up another coin and flicked it delicately into the water. “Just the one. I’m stacking the odds.”_

_It took Lea by surprise when he felt Isa’s hand brush against his own, pressing a coin into his palm._

_“Here. Make a wish.”_

_Isa had half expected him to laugh, to tell Isa how dumb this was, to declare that his wish was for Isa to be less of a gullible moron. Instead, Isa was surprised to see Lea staring at the coin in his palm, deep in thought, before launching it silently into the fountain._

_Isa stood, slightly unsteady on his feet. “Now you owe me.”_

_“What? Are you that broke I gotta pay you back a_ penny _?”_

_“Nah, not the money.” Isa smiled, picking up the final coin from the floor and flinging it into the water. “You owe me a wish.”_

* * *

**Day 254**

Saïx lowered himself into the bath with a sigh, the heat of the water soaking into him like honey into tea.

Everything hurt. The missions were getting longer, he was sure, and today’s had been particularly troublesome. He’d been up half the night, too, desperately organising the relevant documents for this morning’s meeting with Xemnas.

It had not gone well.

Saïx lowered his head into the water at the memory of it, as though doing so might somehow drown it right out of existence.

Several moments passed before the burning in his lungs became too much, and Saïx raised his head back out of the water, gasping for breath and cursing his wretched need to _breathe._ Somehow, things felt better under the water. As though the outside world ceased to exist for as long as he could bear to spend down there.

Saïx started when he heard a sudden pounding at the bathroom door. Clearly, Saïx thought with a surge of irritation, the world had continued on without him.

“…Is it urgent?” Saïx called through the door. He grabbed a towel anyway. He suspected he already knew what the answer was.

“Yes.”

_Xemnas._

Saïx groaned internally, pulling the plug out of the bath and dressing as hastily as he could manage with muscles that protested his every movement.

“What is it?” he asked, pulling open the bathroom door and devoting the last of his energy to keeping the intensity of his irritation from showing on his face.

“A new development. Someone needs to visit Castle Oblivion to investigate, at the earliest opportunity. And,” he handed Saïx a thin folder, “I require reports on the following by next week.”

Saïx popped the button on the folder and pulled out the sheets of paper inside.

“This is—” Saïx flicked through the papers incredulously, then quickly smoothed his expression out into something more befitting of his superior. “This is too much for one week.”

“Saïx,” Xemnas crooned, taking a step forward, uncomfortably close. “Have confidence in yourself, hm? This… self-doubt isn’t a good look on you.”

“It’s not ‘self-doubt’,” Saïx protested. “It’s just physically not possible—”

Xemnas placed a hand on his shoulder, and it took all of Saïx’s effort to resist the urge to lean away from the touch. “I have faith in you. I made you second-in-command for a reason, after all. I know you won’t let me down.”

Xemnas left, and Saïx stood in stunned silence for a moment before dropping the papers onto the floor and sinking down onto the edge of the bed. He stayed there for a long while, the sight of the scatter of papers in the otherwise pristine room steadily poking at his wavering resolve, until he felt a drop of water drip from his hair and slide cold and uncomfortable down his back, and the last of his resolve snapped suddenly into pieces.

There weren’t many days in the Organisation that could truly be described as _good,_ but equally, days as soul-suckingly terrible as this one were just as rare. Saïx swept out of the room and headed for the staircase, confident that he knew exactly where Axel would be. Just once – _only_ once, he promised himself – he would indulge himself. He knew that Axel’s continued attempts to sleep with him (in the strictly literal sense of the word) were nothing more than that – that for whatever reason, Axel slept better in his company – but on days like this, he reasoned, living a lie could be forgiven.

When Saïx arrived at the lab, Axel was already sat on the couch, this time dressed in pyjamas. Saïx had to resist the urge to scoff at the shamelessness of it, raising an eyebrow instead.

“Expecting me?”

“You know me,” Axel said dryly. “Ever the optimist.”

Saïx grimaced as he sank down onto the couch next to him. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Axel grinned. “Doesn’t that make it more fun?”

“We’re not here to _have fun,”_ Saïx replied, crossing his arms. “Especially not down here. Vexen would spontaneously combust if he’d seen what’s become of his lab these days.”

Saïx had been expecting some kind of smartass remark, and was surprised when he didn’t get one.

“Can we not talk about that?”

Saïx blinked. “About what, exactly?”

“Vexen in general, I guess. But especially the whole…” Axel gestured vaguely. “Fiery death… thing.”

Saïx’s face twisted with confusion. “Do you… miss him?”

“…Not exactly.”

Axel tugged frustratedly at the skin around his fingernail. Saïx frowned, taking a hold of one of his hands and moving it firmly back into his lap.

“Don’t. Once you start, you won’t stop.”

Saïx bit the inside of his cheek as he watched Axel look down at the hand on top of his own, chewing at it nervously as he waited for Axel to move his hand away. Instead, Axel stilled completely. Saïx continued talking for no other reason than he feared that if he kept silent any longer he’d end up chewing right through the skin.

“Why does talking about Vexen make you so uncomfortable?”

“I destroyed him, Saïx. It’s not exactly sunshine and rainbows, is it?”

Saïx frowned. He’d had no idea Axel had felt this way, and his mind whirled with the newfound revelation, turning over the possible implications of it in his mind.

“Anyway,” Axel’s fingers twitched slightly under Saïx’s hand. “I’m going to sleep.”

Saïx nodded once, a little uncertainly, not knowing what else to say. He settled next to Axel, then reached for the switch on the lamp and plunged the room into darkness, Axel’s hand still resting with an air of hesitation beneath his own.

They spent a long time pretending to be asleep. Saïx knew Axel was still awake – he could just make out through the darkness the way the outline of his body fidgeted restlessly. Saïx knew he was tired, because he always was, so the fact that he was still awake allowed Saïx to entertain the thought that maybe the strange charge to the air wasn’t all in his imagination; that Axel was feeling it too. Saïx was reminded of all the times he had laid in the dark and imagined how it might feel to have Axel’s lips against his own, Axel’s hands on his skin, Axel’s breath on his neck. Lying here in the dark with him now, the prospect felt closer than ever.

“I’m still angry at you.”

Axel’s words leapt out at him from the dark, and Saïx jumped at the sound. He felt Axel’s hand shift under his own in response.

“…And I with you,” Saïx replied uncertainly.

“Why did you come down here, then?”

Saïx stayed very still for a very long time. “I don’t know.”

A lie.

Saïx couldn’t answer the question. Not with words. They wouldn’t come out, stayed stuck in his throat, tangled up there with all the _I’m sorry_ s and _I miss you_ s that had built up there over the years. Instead, Saïx resolved to answer the question an entirely different way. The way things were going at the moment, it felt like there was hardly anything left to lose.

There was something emboldening about the dark. It formed a mask over Axel’s face; there was no need to worry about what expression would cross his features when Saïx put skin to skin. That had always been Saïx’s biggest fear; that his touch would cause Axel’s face to twist with discomfort, with panic, with the shock of being touched so closely by someone that Axel had never thought of in a way that was anything other than entirely and completely platonic. He didn’t think he could bear the sight of it.

In the dark, there was no need to worry about that. A touch could be rejected with the slightest shuffle away, and blamed by both on nothing more than the regular tosses and turns of sleep. Come morning, it would be like nothing had happened at all.

With that in mind, Saïx reached a hand out and placed it, feather-light, on the dip of Axel’s waist.

Saïx kept as still as he was capable of, holding his breath so that not even the rise and fall of his chest could disturb the moment. He could hear Axel’s breathing in the dark, the way it sped up at the touch, and Saïx counted twenty breaths before he felt able to let go of his own: Axel had drawn closer.

It was no more than a centimetre, but it was enough that Saïx could feel Axel’s breath on his neck. Saïx allowed his hand to rest more heavily on Axel’s waist, and Axel placed his own hand on Saïx’s hip in return, the touch warming his skin even through his clothes.

That one touch was all it took. Saïx’s pulse pounded hard in his ears, and suddenly it was so hard to _think,_ so hard to hear his thoughts over the rush of blood through his veins. So he didn’t think. He simply nudged forward and rested his head in the crook of Axel’s neck, breathing in the scent of cinnamon and vanilla and the smoky-sweet fragrance of blowing out candles on a birthday cake.

Saïx felt Axel’s fingers nudge under the fabric of his t-shirt, and suddenly they were skimming over his hips, his waist, skin to skin in the most hypnotic way, and Saïx felt his breath hitch in his throat as his body burnt white hot under Axel’s touch.

The longing for _more_ was so strong that he felt almost breathless with it. Saïx no longer felt the rush of blood only in his ears, and he found himself shuffling his hips backwards slightly to be sure Axel wouldn’t notice. He wanted to dip his fingers under Axel’s own t-shirt, to feel his skin against his fingertips, but he didn’t dare. He wanted to say something, to ask what the hand tracing slow circles into his side meant, but he worried the answer would be the one he had always feared. He had already been given so much more tonight than he had dared to hope for, and the prospect of ruining that by asking for too much was unthinkable.

Instead, Saïx breathed in deeply, taking in the scent he hadn’t smelt since all the not-sleepovers they had had when they were younger.

They didn’t move until morning, content to wrap themselves up in each other’s touch and pretend it meant nothing at all.


	12. Admission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is pick ‘n’ mix a universal thing? I am hoping
> 
> TW: vomiting

**Day 255**

Axel wasn’t there when Saïx woke up.

The events of the night before flashed through his mind, and Saïx felt his stomach coil tightly with the mortification of it all. It felt surreal to the point that he was beginning to wonder if it hadn’t all been some kind of dreadfully embarrassing dream.

The first part of his morning was spent consumed by an unfortunate combination of embarrassment and arousal, a genre of emotional pick ‘n’ mix he hadn’t felt since he was a teenager. By the time he had made his way to the Grey Area, the feeling had finally begun to fade – until Axel arrived, and the twisting in his stomach returned ten-fold.

“Urgent orders from Lord Xemnas,” Saïx said, carefully avoiding eye contact. “We need you back at Castle Oblivion today.”

“What? Why’s it gotta be me?” Axel asked, brow creasing. “You always stick with me with the icky jobs.”

“You’re the only one who’s been going over there. We need someone who knows the ins and outs of the place. Don’t—” Saïx took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Don’t be difficult.”

Saïx held out the mission papers, and Axel stared at them for several long seconds before reluctantly taking hold of them.

“Hey,” Axel started, shoving the papers in his pocket without bothering to look at them. “About last night—”

Saïx shut his binder with a loud snap, keen to put an end to that sentence before it could head in the wrong direction.

“Axel, I know this has never been a strong point of yours, but today, please,” Saïx pulled open a Dark Corridor. “Be quiet."

* * *

Things at Castle Oblivion had gone about as well as Axel had expected. Given that what Axel had expected could be best summed up by the term _absolute shitshow_ , that wasn’t exactly a good thing. Xion had left. Axel had let her. Roxas was, understandably, upset.

The day was over, now. At least there was that. It was a much-needed source of comfort that, no matter how bad a day had been, all of them eventually came to an end.

Axel had spent the last hour lying face down into the pillow, the damp from his hair seeping into the fabric like a halo around him. He’d washed it twice, but it felt like he could still smell the place on him, sharp and metallic. He knew the scent was nothing more than iron doors and steel walls, but it had always reminded him of the bitter tang of blood.

The knock at the door startled him. Xion was gone, and Roxas hadn’t exactly been in a conversational mood since the news, so whoever it was on the other side of the door, Axel was distinctly unenthusiastic about seeing them. It was probably Xigbar, Axel reasoned, come to reel off all the riddles about Xion’s disappearance he hadn’t managed to squeeze into today’s meeting. Axel glowered at the thought. He was sure half of them didn’t even _mean_ anything, that he made them up just to enjoy the look of irritation on Axel’s face.

Axel pulled open the door, and felt his glower deepen even further.

“What do _you_ want?” he asked.

Saïx didn’t bother answering the question. “Can I come in?”

Axel swept a hand towards the room dramatically, gesturing for Saïx to enter. Axel was sure he would have come in even if the answer had been no; there was no point putting up a fight.

“Since when do you knock?” Axel asked, shutting the door behind him and sinking onto the bed with crossed arms.

“There’s no need to sound so angry about it,” Saïx replied, raising his eyebrows. “I can’t do right for doing wrong, it would seem.”

Axel rolled his eyes. Suddenly, Xigbar was sounding like pretty good company.

“I will get straight to the point,” Saïx continued, after waiting several seconds for an answer. “I was concerned, after our meeting today. As you know, Xemnas has ordered that no one go looking for Xion. And, well…” Saïx fixed Axel with a hard look. “As we both know, you don’t exactly have a good track record when it comes to following the rules.”

“So, what then?” Axel asked. “You expect me to just leave her out there on her own? Anything could happen. She’s just a kid. And besides that, she’s my _friend._ Got it memorised?”

Saïx’s eyes narrowed. “Orders are orders. If you don’t follow them, the puppet will be the least of your worries.”

“Is that a threat?” Axel asked, standing up abruptly.

Saïx huffed irritably. “No, Axel, it’s not a _threat._ It’s just a _fact._ ”

“I don’t care. Xemnas can do what he wants.”

A flash of emotion pulled at Saïx’s face, one that didn’t go away until he’d scrunched up the fabric of his pocket into a fist so tight it shook.

“For once in your life, _do as you’re told_ ,” Saïx said, breathing heavily. “You’re stubborn to the point of ruin, Axel.”

Axel rolled his eyes. “You seemed pretty happy to turn a blind eye all the other times I broke orders.” Axel walked over to Saïx, studying his face closely. “This is because it’s Xion, isn’t it? When are you gonna get over it? This pathetic _grudge_ you have is—”

“This isn’t just about Xion. Or Xemnas.” Saïx took another deep breath. “This is about _everything._ ”

Saïx’s jaw twitched, and Axel suspected it was something to do with the effort it took to keep his expression neutral.

“Forget it. You might be happy being Xemnas’ _lap dog,_ but I’ve got other plans.”

“And how is that going for you?” Saïx asked, the words coming out rough, like a sheet of paper being ripped into pieces. “Are you happy?”

Axel faltered for a moment, then quickly narrowed his eyes once again. “Are _you?_ ”

Saïx made a noise in the back of his throat. “I’ve asked you a lot of questions since we joined the Organisation, Axel. Why does it feel like you ignore every one of them?”

Axel flung the door open.

“Because I don’t trust you with the answers.”

* * *

**Day 256**

Axel spent the night in his own room, for the first time in several weeks. He didn’t sleep, but he’d expected that. The night had been spent sitting, staring; trying not to think, but thinking anyway. Every time sleep pulled at him – eyes drifting closed, head lolling forwards – the memories of Castle Oblivion jerked him back into consciousness. By morning, his limbs were heavy, his body aching, as though the tug-of-war between sleep and wakefulness had been pulling at much more than just his mind.

Axel entered the Grey Area with his features carefully arranged into perfect indifference. The worst part about this was the fact that Saïx might think his fitful night had anything to do with their _discussion_ yesterday. Saïx’s power trip was staggering enough already, in Axel’s opinion. The last thing he wanted was for Saïx to think he had any kind of power over _him,_ too.

Axel strode over to Saïx as casually as he could given that he felt like he was wading through treacle.

Saïx blinked at him.

“You look dreadful.”

Axel’s carefully crafted indifferent expression quickly gave way to one of mild irritation. “Thanks.”

Saïx sighed, putting the binder down on the couch nearby and crossing his arms. “Trouble sleeping, I presume.”

“Not in the mood. Just give me the mission and go.”

Saïx raised his eyebrows. “And what kind of mission were you expecting to carry out like _this?”_

“Any is fine. I’m fine.”

Saïx sighed again, this one heavier. “I don’t know how one person can be so singularly exhausting. Go. Take the day off. I’ll deal with you this evening.”

“What do you mean, _deal with me_?” Axel asked.

“I’ll be in the lab. Find me.”

Saïx picked up his binder and swept out of the room.

* * *

“Well?” Axel appeared in the doorway, leaning against it with his arms crossed tight over his chest. “What do you want?”

“Come. Sit.”

Axel walked reluctantly towards where Saïx sat on the familiar examination couch, the look of petulance on his face causing a wave of nostalgia to rise in Saïx’s chest. It felt very _Lea;_ the same look he’d had with every detention given, every exasperated speech from his mother. He'd seen it more times than he could count.

“Let me guess,” Axel said, dropping down onto the edge of the couch. “Agrabah for a month.”

“Go to sleep, Axel.”

Axel’s eyebrows twitched. “What?”

“I don’t like this any more than you do. But if this is what it takes, then so be it. Sleep.”

Axel didn’t move for several minutes, and Saïx directed his attention back towards his papers while he waited. Eventually, Axel shuffled back onto the couch, the reluctance so strong that Saïx was sure he could feel it physically, radiating off him in waves.

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

Saïx hummed noncommittally.

“I mean it. I really don’t want to be here.”

“Fine.”

Axel paused for a moment, then suddenly swung his legs back over the side of the couch.

“Changed my mind. Not doing it—”

Saïx grabbed Axel by the shoulders and hauled him back onto the couch, then immediately returned to gazing calmly at the binder in his lap.

“You’ve made your point. Now sleep.”

Several minutes passed in silence, as Axel watched Saïx move his pen across the papers in front of him.

“Saïx.”

Saïx hummed.

“Why do you let me do this?” Axel took a sheet of paper off the pile in front of them, and Saïx watched on with poorly concealed frustration as Axel began folding and unfolding it at random. “It’s not exactly like we’re on good terms with each other.”

“What use will you be to anyone otherwise?” Saïx said, scratching something out aggressively on his sheet of paper. “It’s hardly a practical solution, but it’s the only one we have for now. Perhaps if Vexen were still around, we might have found another way—” Saïx stilled suddenly, realising what he’d said. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to mention—”

“It’s fine.”

The expression on Axel’s face didn’t quite match the words, but if Saïx noticed, he had the good grace not to comment on it. Axel slid down the couch, his back to Saïx, and carefully manoeuvred his body so that it was as far from Saïx as he could get without toppling right over the edge.

Reluctantly, Axel slept.

* * *

Axel jolted upright so suddenly that Saïx jumped, his binder falling to the floor with an ungodly clatter as his limbs jerked in surprise.

“Axel, what on _earth_ are you doing—”

Saïx turned to face him, and immediately stopped talking.

Axel had always been pale – even more so, lately – but his skin was so washed out it looked almost translucent, the threads of his veins embroidering his skin a sickly green. His breath came in short pants, harsh and heavy, and although Axel quickly moved to sit on his hands, Saïx didn’t miss the way they trembled on the way there.

Saïx glanced at him nervously, then quickly looked away again. It felt _wrong_ to look, for reasons he wasn’t quite sure of.

“Saïx?”

Axel said his name as though he’d forgotten he was there, and Saïx turned to face him once again. It felt strange, he thought, to hear Axel say his name without any of its usual venom.

“I—” Axel swallowed thickly. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Saïx slid off the couch in one smooth motion, scanned the room, then promptly collected the bin from the corner and shoved it into Axel’s lap. He wasn’t sure quite what to do with himself then, hovering awkwardly at Axel’s side as he kept his gaze carefully averted.

Saïx heard Axel retch, shifting uncomfortably at the sound. One hand came up to hover by Axel’s back, but never quite managed to make contact, floating closer, further away, closer again, before finally dropping back down to his side.

Saïx sighed, feeling confused and defeated and utterly out of his depth. He moved over to the sink on the other side of the room, letting the water run while he searched the cupboards for something suitable.

There were no glasses. Saïx rinsed the dust off one of Vexen’s old glass flasks and filled that with water instead.

By the time he returned, some of the colour had returned to Axel’s face. Saïx handed him the flask wordlessly and sat back down next to him.

“Are we going to talk about it, or is this something else you don’t want to tell me?” Saïx asked. The words came out more accusatory than intended, and he quickly amended: “Either is fine.”

“I hate it there,” Axel replied. “Castle Oblivion, I mean.”

“Why?”

“Bad memories.”

Saïx studied the expression on Axel’s face carefully as he took a moment to connect one dot to the other in his mind. “…Do you dream about it?”

“Not usually.” Axel took a slow sip of water. “Tonight… yeah. I think going back there yesterday twisted a muscle in my brain or something.”

It was testament to Saïx’s level of concern that he made no comment on the anatomic impossibility of such a thing.

“But,” Axel continued, “I see it a lot. In my mind. Did you know the ceiling here looks just like the one over there?” Saïx watched as Axel’s grip on the flask tightened. “When you lie in bed, it’s impossible to tell which one it is. Here, or there.”

Saïx looked at Axel in silence. He felt like he should say something, _wanted_ to say something, but all the words he could think of felt clumsy and wrong.

“But,” Axel continued after Saïx didn’t answer. “When you’re close by…” Axel stalled for a second, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Look, if I tell you this, you gotta promise not to be weird about it, okay?”

Saïx nodded once, his eyes never leaving Axel’s face.

“When you’re close by, it doesn’t feel like I’m at Castle Oblivion. It doesn’t even feel like I’m here, actually. It feels like when we were kids. Sleeping at each other’s houses. It, uh,” Axel raised his eyebrows, as though internally berating himself for what he was about to say. “You smell the same.”

Saïx’s desperate scramble for words came grinding to a halt, as though even his thoughts had been stunned into silence. It was all he could to stare at Axel blankly and just about manage to blink.

The silence became more and more awkward as time stretched on, until Axel broke it with a short laugh that sounded more than a little forced. “So… now that I’m done embarrassing myself, how’s about you return the favour?” Axel nudged him with his elbow. “Tell me why you’re always working down here. Doesn’t this place kinda creep you out?”

Saïx began to pick at a hangnail. “Not particularly.”

Axel rolled his eyes. “You answered the wrong part of the question.”

Saïx flicked the switch on the lamp, plunging them into darkness. “Too bad.”

* * *

**Day 266**

Something had shifted. Saïx noticed the change not just in Axel, but in himself, as well. They had both grown so accustomed to the distance between them; to the questions asked and never answered, to the conversations played out with hard stares and acid tongues. The conversation they had had last week had been so sorely lacking in all of those things that it had seemed to throw their entire dynamic out of balance. It felt as though Axel’s sudden admission had pulled them closer together; as though he’d grabbed hold of the thread of their unravelling relationship and wound it just a little back in.

There had been little time to acclimatise – the change had happened, quite literally, overnight. Knowing the reasoning behind Axel’s sleeping habits had prompted Saïx to reconsider his resistance to them; Axel’s insistence on sleeping next to him felt less like being used, and more like one of the few precious threads from a previous life still tying them together. Even Saïx’s remarks about _allegiances_ and _loyalties_ seemed to have come to a stop; no matter what Axel said on the matter, it was not Roxas or Xion that Axel sought out every night. Surely, Saïx figured, that must count for something.

Similarly, Axel had become what Saïx could only describe as _reluctantly affectionate._ Axel had barely touched him for so long, and now, all of a sudden, he found Axel’s hands on his body at the most unexpected moments. There was a hand on his shoulder when he collected missions; a hand on his waist when they bumped into each other in the hallway. The touches were brief and light, experimental, as though Axel couldn’t quite decide if he liked it or not.

Saïx, on the other hand, couldn’t quite decide if he should reciprocate.

He’d thought about it every night. Every night they spent together down in Vexen’s lab, from the moment he put his pen down to the moment he fell asleep. Axel’s body was always so close to his own, pressed up against him in a way that could have been accidental had it not been for how often it happened. The feeling stirred in him his memories of the night they’d spent together weeks ago, when Axel’s hands had done so much more than simply ghost over his shoulders in the corridor. He wanted to feel them again; wanted to feel calloused fingertips brush over the curve of his hips, drawing lines across his skin like a letter only the two of them could read.

Tonight, Saïx stared. Axel stared back. Saïx couldn’t decide whether they’d been doing this for as a long as it felt like, or whether the urge to reach across and pull Axel’s body flush against his own was just making time go by so very slowly. They were already close enough that staring at each other like this would have been decidedly intimate (and, in all honesty, decidedly awkward) in other circumstances, but the room was so dark that all Saïx could see was Axel’s silhouette. Axel’s eyelashes were the only thing that gave away he was still awake; Saïx could see them through the dark, fluttering each time he blinked.

Axel shifted next to him, moving almost imperceptibly closer. Saïx mirrored him. They were close enough now Saïx could hear Axel’s breathing, could _feel_ Axel’s breathing, the gentle puffs of air against his lips an agonising reminder of just how close together they were. Saïx spent a long moment weighing up the space between them, wondering just how much he had to lose by leaning forwards and closing the distance at last.

Too much, Saïx thought.

There was too much to lose, but equally, the temptation was far too great, far too hard to resist when Axel was so close by, clouding his senses with the scent of his skin, the heat of his body, the sheer proximity of his being. Just as Saïx resolved to move away, to shift backwards until he was sure he could regain control of his actions, Axel nudged forward even closer, and Saïx froze where he lay.

Saïx waited. He felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him; suddenly, he felt like Isa again, like he was sixteen and drunk on cheap wine and gazing up at Lea dizzily from the doorstep of his house as he watched him lean in close – unbearably, breathtakingly close – and then suddenly stumble away. Saïx’s head still swam with the disappointment of it even now.

Axel nudged forward again, just a hair’s breadth away, and suddenly Saïx didn’t have the mental capacity for anything anymore except for what was right there in front of him.

“Well, isn’t this cosy?”

The light flicked on, and the both of them jumped apart as though they’d been shocked through with a jolt of electricity.

“I do hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Xemnas continued, sounding as though he was quite sure he _was_ interrupting something and was pretty damn pleased about it, too.

Saïx stood abruptly, crossing over to the other side of the room so that he was as far from Axel as the space allowed.

“Not at all, my Lord.”

Axel snorted from the examination couch, and Saïx shot him a look from across the room that would have turned lesser men to stone.

“What exactly is it the two of you were doing down here?” Xemnas asked, striding into the room and positioning himself next to Saïx.

“I’m not sure that’s any of your business, _my Lord,_ ” Axel said, shooting a disbelieving look at Saïx as he mirrored his words back at him. Somehow, from Axel’s mouth, they sounded much more like an insult.

“I can assure you, Number Eight,” Xemnas replied, the words clipped, “that everything that goes on within the Organisation is quite certainly _my business._ ”

“Then you’ve got a whole castle’s worth of business to go sticking your nose into. Can’t you find someone else to bother?” Axel’s lips twitched. “If you’re taking suggestions, I reckon Xigbar would _really_ appreciate the company.”

“Actually,” Xemnas replied, turning towards Saïx, “It was you I was looking for. I need to speak with you. Do you have a moment?”

“Of course,” Saïx replied, well aware that saying _no_ had never been an option. He turned towards Axel. “I’ll come back.”

“Number Seven,” Xemnas said, his voice sickly sweet in the way that always set Saïx’s teeth on edge. “Is it wise to make promises we can’t keep?”

Saïx opened his mouth to say something, but self-preservation got the better of him. He settled instead for pressing his lips into a hard line, glancing back at Axel as he made to leave in a way that he hoped would be interpreted as apologetic.

Xemnas’ hand ghosted over Saïx’s waist as he followed him out of the room, and Saïx felt the skin there burn red hot, both with the heat of Xemnas’ touch and the heat of Axel’s gaze as it bored into the spot where Xemnas’ hand lay. It wasn’t the pleasant kind of hot that came from Axel’s fingertips. It was hot like a fever, hot like a flush of nausea; hot like the fire in Xemnas’ study that still plagued Saïx’s dreams every night.


	13. Unrest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: No panic attacks per se, but for the sake of being extra cautious I'm putting it as a TW - there are some descriptions towards the end that might sound quite similar to one.

Saïx had had enough conversations in Xemnas’ quarters by now that the rattle of a tea tray alone was enough to set his teeth on edge. It was a sound he had long since come to associate with uncomfortable conversations.

He watched as Xemnas set the tray down on the table and took a seat opposite him. Saïx didn’t speak – partly out of apprehension, but mostly out of a complete lack of desire to have any kind of conversation with the man. Xemnas remained equally silent, in a way that felt much more calculated. Saïx got the distinct impression he could sense his discomfort and was finding it thoroughly entertaining.

“It hasn’t escaped me that the two of you have become closer, lately,” Xemnas said at last. “I assure you, it would warm my heart to see, if I were fortunate enough to have one.”

Saïx resisted the urge to raise his eyebrows. Nothing about Xemnas had ever been warm; if he’d had a heart, Saïx expected it would be just as cold as the rest of him.

“You must have a lot of… trust, in him, to be behaving as you are,” Xemnas continued. He handed Saïx a cup of tea, and Saïx took it without bothering to think about it. It was routine, by now.

“Of course.”

Xemnas apparently didn’t have the restraint that Saïx did; he raised his eyebrows. “Do you think that’s wise? Forgive me for asking, but I find myself wondering what it is that makes you so sure of his loyalties.”

“He’s done a lot for me.”

“Has he? I can’t say I’ve noticed. It seems to me he spends most of his time with our newest recruits.”

“Well, yes, but before that—”

“Ah,” Xemnas interrupted him. “I’m not interested in bygones, Saïx. Past loyalties mean nothing if they don’t extend to the present, after all. Tell me, have you never questioned where his loyalties lie?”

Saïx choked back a laugh. He had preoccupied himself with that very question for so long that it felt almost absurd to be asked, as though the prospect of having any kind of certainty about what went on inside Axel's head was entirely unthinkable. His thoughts moved in circles around the matter until he felt dizzy with it, day after day, and they pulled at him now, pleading for release after so long trapped in loop after loop after loop. The prospect of finally _talking_ about it was endlessly tempting, and the answer stirred in his throat, ready and waiting and poised for release.

But it wasn’t the right time, or the right place, or above all, the right _person._ Saïx bit down on his tongue, teeth digging into the flesh until he could swallow the answer down again.

Xemnas didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he smiled knowingly, as though the expression on Saïx’s face had told him all he wanted to know.

“What about myself? Have you ever questioned my loyalties? That is to say… Have I ever given you reason to believe I have anything other than the best interests of our members at heart?” Xemnas smiled wryly at the word. “…Metaphorically speaking, of course.”

Saïx fixed Xemnas with the kind of look he didn’t often dare use in his company.

“Does that include Axel?”

“It includes all those who are loyal to me. To the cause.”

“The last time we spoke of Axel… Forgive me if I misinterpreted the situation, but that wasn’t the impression I got at all.”

Xemnas chose that moment to take a long sip of tea, and Saïx shifted in his seat with an uncharacteristic restlessness while he waited for an answer.

“It isn’t enough to simply _claim_ loyalty,” Xemnas finally said. “Loyalty must be proven, through actions rather than words. Axel’s skills are valuable to us, but I fail to see the kind of dedication in him that others have shown. It concerns me. After all,” Xemnas put down his teacup and flicked his eyes towards Saïx, fixing him with his full attention. “One weak link is all it takes for even the strongest of chains to break.”

Saïx pulled his gaze away, uncomfortable. “I see.”

“Need I remind you,” Xemnas said, “I take great care to concern myself with everything that goes on within these walls. I’ve been watching, Saïx. I’ve seen how the two of you have drawn closer as of late. And I would implore you to consider the reasons behind that.”

Saïx met Xemnas’ gaze again, his eyes hard. “May I ask what it is you’re implying?”

Xemnas stood, taking the empty teacup from Saïx’s hands and setting it down on the table. Their hands brushed in the process, Xemnas’ fingers just as cold as Saïx’s own, and Saïx felt his stomach knot at the touch. It was an insignificant observation, he knew, but the idea that he and Xemnas might be in any way similar felt so fiercely offensive that he reached forward for the teapot on the table, refilling his cup and taking it back in his hands again. He felt his skin warm against it, and the knot in his stomach loosened just a little.

“I’ve seen the both of you, over the years,” Xemnas began. “I’ve watched as things have… fallen apart.”

Saïx raised the cup to his lips stiffly.

“There has been a distance for some time now. I’ve seen Axel, pursuing with other members what, in another life, might have been friendship. And I’ve seen you. Alone. And now, I’ve seen how things have begun to change. To put it simply, I find the timing… questionable.”

“In what way?”

“I hope you’ll excuse my bluntness, but… Is it not odd, that Axel’s interest in you has developed only as his attachment to Number Thirteen has grown? Only as Number Fourteen has become ever more defective? The three of them are a group with many questions. About their origins. About their roles. About the Organisation itself. And you, Saïx, are a man with many answers.”

The room seemed to suddenly grow cold. Saïx lifted the cup back to his lips, hoping the tea might warm him from the inside out, but instead it just sat in his mouth uselessly, as though he couldn’t quite remember how to swallow. He could feel Xemnas watching him closely, taking in every twitch of his fingers, every rise and fall of his chest. He felt strangely exposed, as though each tiny movement somehow laid all of his thoughts bare. Saïx’s eyes burnt with the urge to blink, and for a long while, he fought hard against it, worried that under Xemnas’ watchful gaze, even that would reveal too much.

Saïx felt his body give in all at once. He blinked, the tea sitting in his mouth slipping down at last, the sudden cold finally managing to elicit in him a shiver. It was barely perceptible, but Xemnas saw it. Xemnas saw everything, after all.

“Is it too cold?” Xemnas asked. He smiled gently, and Saïx gripped his teacup even tighter. Xemnas was the only person he knew whose smile could feel like a threat; like a shark showing off just how many teeth it had. “My apologies. I would hate for you to feel uncomfortable here, hm? Allow me to light the fire—”

“No.”

It came out too fast. Xemnas looked at him questioningly.

“Is there a problem?”

Saïx put the cup down on the table, hard enough that some of the tea splashed over the sides.

“It’s not necessary. I should be going, anyway.”

Saïx braced himself to stand, but before he could, Xemnas had crossed back over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder in a silent refusal.

“So soon? I would hate for our evening to end on such a negative note.”

Saïx picked his teacup back up purely as an excuse to move away from Xemnas’ touch.

“What else is there to say?”

Xemnas sat down next to him, his face falling into an expression Saïx didn’t recognise; one that looked almost wistful. Saïx took a moment to pick it apart piece by piece, attempting to determine the sincerity of it. Xemnas had honed the craft of false pleasantries to the point of perfection, and Saïx’s skills in sorting the real from the fake had long since fallen behind. It was so hard to tell if this was another mask he’d created for himself, or if Saïx were finally seeing the real face behind it.

“I see myself in you, Saïx. Do you see it, too?”

“I’m… not sure what exactly you mean.”

“We’ve both been wronged. The hand we were dealt in life has not served us well. We’ve suffered for it, in a way that neither of us have deserved. The both of us have spent many years alone.”

Saïx didn’t reply. He wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to, anyway. Saïx recognised the look in his eye as the one he saw when Xemnas made announcements to the room, all sweeping statements and grand declarations; a look that drew in an audience and told them to be quiet. Xemnas was a performer at heart, there was no doubt about it.

“Loneliness can make people do such irrational things,” Xemnas continued. “It’s plain to see, when I watch you with Axel. Of course, far be it from me to dictate the relationships you form with others. But I feel it would be remiss of me if I didn’t voice my concerns. I would hate for you to make the same mistakes that I did.”

Xemnas’ eyes flicked across the length of Saïx’s body, like a snake trying to decide if it could swallow its latest kill whole.

“You were sceptical of my loyalties, yes?” Xemnas asked. “I would hope that this has shown you _exactly_ where my loyalties lie, Saïx.”

Xemnas’ lips wrapped around his name oddly. It sounded alien all of a sudden, like Xemnas had twisted it into something that didn’t represent him at all. Saïx sat, unmoving, as Xemnas gazed at him silently, as though waiting for Saïx to translate the word into a language he understood.

Saïx stood.

“I really should be going.”

“Please, allow me,” Xemnas said, striding over to the door and holding it open for him. Saïx nodded at him stiffly as he stepped through the doorway, feeling as though he should thank him but struggling to bring himself to say the words.

Saïx didn’t go back to the basement. He didn’t go to his bedroom, or his office, or to flick on the kettle in the kitchen and let himself be comforted by the rumble of boiling water. Instead, he stepped outside, taking a seat on the steps and leaning his head against the railings. The stone was cold against his skin, and he felt his insides squirm uncomfortably at the sensation so reminiscent of the cool of Xemnas’ hands.

The streets were empty, just as they always were.

He was, again, alone.

* * *

**Day 267**

The next evening, Axel found the lab empty. It was the first time for weeks he’d seen it like that, grey and still and lifeless without the shock of blue hair in the middle. It felt odd; like someone had put together a jigsaw without the crucial central piece.

It was after a considerable amount of traipsing the corridors that Axel proved, to his own irritation, that missing things will always turn up in the very last place you look.

“Hey!” Axel called, the door to the castle banging shut behind him. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Saïx turned his head. “That wasn’t necessary.”

“Are you kidding? I was ten minutes away from heading to Xemnas’ room on search and rescue.” Axel reached the bottom of the steps, taking a seat across from Saïx. “Good to see you’re still in one piece, anyway. Gotta admit, I was starting to worry a little.”

Saïx’s forehead creased for barely a moment, more of a twitch than anything else. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

Axel shrugged. “I do what I want.”

“To my eternal exasperation.”

Axel grinned.

“What are you doing out here, anyway? It’s freezing.”

Saïx fiddled a moment with the hem of his coat, before dropping it with a quiet sigh. “It sounds juvenile to say it aloud, but I suppose you could say I’m… avoiding... our superior. Although, if even _you_ found me so easily, perhaps this wasn’t quite the hiding spot I’d hoped it would be.”

“To be honest, I’ve been searching for quite a while,” Axel said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. The soles of his feet still ached from hours of traipsing through the corridors, already worn thin by his efforts to look for Xion that afternoon. Axel stretched his legs out across the steps, the movement straining over-tired muscles. He was glad Roxas had never caused him any trouble; his body ached enough already. Another friend to go looking for and it might finally fall apart.

“So,” Axel continued, “How come you’re hiding from Xemnas? I mean, apart from the obvious.”

Saïx looked at Axel so deliberately that he was sure it was meant to mean something, but his face lay so expressionless it was impossible to tell what. “It doesn’t concern you.”

Axel resisted the urge to sigh. “Are you at least gonna tell me what happened last night?”

“Lord Xemnas likes to talk. He simply required an audience.”

“Did he mention anything about…?”

Axel wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence. _Us_ felt like the most appropriate choice, but it seemed to imply something a bit more substantial than what had, up to now, been nothing more than hesitant touches shared in a dark room.

Saïx seemed to understand regardless.

“No.”

His body had stiffened in a way that made Axel certain that was not the full story. It was clear that was all he was getting, however; Saïx’s lips had pressed together tightly, as though the rest of the words sat on his tongue and he were sealing them tightly away.

“That’s… good,” Axel said, sounding uncertain.

The way Saïx held himself implied it was definitely not _good_ , but Saïx didn’t bother to correct him. Instead, they settled into a slightly awkward silence.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Axel said at last. “I don’t know why you spend every single evening in that creepy basement, because you won’t _tell_ me,” Axel paused to give Saïx a pointed look. “But I thought, if it’s alright with you and your secrets, we could sleep in an actual bed tonight.”

Saïx tangled his fingers around the railings, his grip tight. “…Perhaps.”

Axel frowned. “What kinda answer is that? You can just say no, y’know.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“What is there to think about?”

Several minutes passed without a reply, and there was only so long Axel could sit with his eyebrows raised before his forehead started to ache. He stood up from the floor, offering a hand to Saïx. He didn’t take it.

Axel placed a hand on the small of Saïx’s back as they made their way back inside, something that had, as of late, finally started to feel natural again.

Saïx quickened his pace just enough that Axel had no choice but to let his hand fall limply at his side.

* * *

Saïx stood in front of Axel’s door for a long time before he felt able to knock. The sharp rap of knuckles on metal was too loud for the narrow hallway, sounding harsh and tinny and frustratingly like defeat.

Axel answered the door looking as though he wanted nothing more than to punch whoever was on the other side of it. The expression quickly fell away when he noticed who it was. Odd, Saïx thought. He was used to that happening in entirely the opposite order.

“I, uh, wasn’t really expecting you to turn up,” Axel said, wandering over to the bed and dropping onto the mattress like a ragdoll.

“I don’t want to talk tonight,” Saïx said. “But—”

It was a fight to get the words out. For a moment, the tightness in his throat took him back to a past life; to struggling for breath around the swelling in his larynx, Lea by his side and a bee sting in his finger.

“—If you’ll have me—” Saïx tried. It came out a reluctant staccato, the verbal equivalent of dragging his feet.

Axel smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Shut the door.”

True to his word, Axel didn’t speak any further. He waited until Saïx had climbed stiffly onto the bed, then switched out the light, plunging them into total darkness and total silence.

The air crackled with something different tonight, less like the buzz of electricity and more like the static of a radio tuned into the wrong channel. Axel didn’t press up close to him like he normally did. Saïx couldn’t decide whether he was glad for that or not.

Normally, it was Axel who was the restless one. But tonight, Saïx found himself unable to settle. Everything felt wrong, but so frustratingly close to right, and the fibres of his body seemed to vibrate with the urge to put an end to all of the senseless _uncertainty._ A part of his mind urged him to simply set the whole thing alight; to burn it to the ground until it was no more than ash and there was finally, _finally,_ nothing left to agonise over.

Saïx turned over for what felt like the hundredth time. He dug his knees into the mattress, one hand tugging at the bedsheets, the other grabbing onto the pillowcase and twisting, twisting, _twisting,_ until the sudden snap of broken stitches pierced the silence between them.

“Saïx.” The mattress shifted between them as Axel drew just the slightest bit closer. “What’s the matter?”

Axel’s voice seemed to pull at him through the dark. It was a comforting sound. He wished it wasn’t.

“Nothing.”

“You do you know that I can tell when you’re keeping things from me, right? I hate to burst your bubble, but you’re not as good at secrets as you think you are.”

“I thought I said I didn’t want to talk.”

Saïx could feel as much as he could hear Axel huff. “Sure. Have it your way.”

For a moment, they were still. But then Axel reached up to the hand Saïx had twisted into the pillow, wrapping it in his own. He pulled it gently away, guiding it back towards the bed and letting their hands rest there, intertwined. Axel’s touch felt just as it had when they were younger; warm and soft and confident in a way that had always been a comfort, as though Axel had no doubts at all about just how much he liked it.

And yet, now, Saïx found no comfort in it whatsoever.

Axel had never been a calculating person. He had been _act now, think later;_ loud and impulsive and dramatic, all the things that lent poorly to the art of keeping a secret. Saïx had made plan after plan over the years, and Axel had thrown each one out the window; there was simply no accounting for someone so unpredictable. Axel was much more over the top than he was underhand.

But the Organisation had affected them all. Saïx knew he, himself, was far from the same person he had been when he had first joined all those years ago. There was more darkness in all of them, now. And if the fateful events of Castle Oblivion had taught him anything, it was that Axel was perfectly capable of a bit of double-dealing.

Perhaps, Saïx thought, Xemnas was not the only one who had become practised in the art of wearing a mask.

Saïx was broken from his thoughts by the feeling of Axel’s thumb rubbing slowly across his hand, a gentle back and forth that had Saïx’s eyes fluttering shut despite himself.

If Xemnas were right – if Axel were using him – was it really so bad to turn a blind eye? Was it worse than the alternative? Worse than spending the rest of his days really, truly alone?

_You’re spending too much time with Xemnas. You get more like him every day._

Axel had said it so many months ago, but the words still rang in his ears even now. Xemnas was alone, and it had permeated his entire being; turned him bitter and resentful as the years had passed by. Saïx had never wanted to end up like that, but perhaps the prospect was closer than he had realised.

Maybe it was inevitable, Saïx thought. Before he’d met Lea, he’d spent much of his time alone, and he’d expected that’s exactly how it would always be. Lea had been dropped on him like a bomb, turning order to chaos, quiet to loud, feeding fire into ice-cold veins with every touch, every look, every insufferably obnoxious word that came out of his mouth. Isa had never expected to know what that felt like, and when it had finally happened, he’d never expected it to last.

His luck would run out one day, he’d been sure. Now it seemed that maybe that day had been and gone, a very long time ago, and Saïx had been too wrapped up in his own delusions to notice.

Still, though, if Saïx were destined to end up like Xemnas one day – so completely alone that it had polluted his entire being – then he had no desire to speed up the process. If Xemnas were right – if what he shared with Axel was nothing but a lie… A make-believe friendship was better than nothing at all.

Saïx flinched as soon as he thought it, remembering all of the time he had spent berating Axel for his own make-believe friendships. He felt like he understood it, now: sometimes, reality was simply too hard to bear.

Saïx sighed, tightening his grip on Axel’s hand as though afraid that at any moment he might let go.

Axel, without hesitation, squeezed back.

* * *

_Lea was chaotic even in sleep. His hands twitched, his legs fumbled, brimming with an energy that didn’t relent no matter what the hour was. True to form, it took more than unconsciousness to get Lea to stop talking; his lips kept moving, gentle murmurs that Isa had to lean in close to hear. He’d fallen asleep to them so often they’d started to sound like a lullaby._

_Isa watched, smiling into the pillow. Moments like these made him feel like the sun rose and set in Lea’s chest._

_The streetlights outside filtered gently through the window, lighting up each of Lea’s freckles like constellations sprawled across his cheeks. Isa fidgeted into the mattress, the urge to reach out and trace them with his fingers hard to suppress. He settled instead for fiddling gently with a lock of Lea’s hair that had tumbled over onto his pillow. It was fascinating, for some reason. Every part of him was._

_Isa pulled his hand away abruptly when he saw that Lea’s eyes had flickered open._

_“Over already?” Lea asked, smirking even as his eyes fluttered closed once again. “Shame. I was enjoying it.”_

_Isa didn’t reply, too busy dealing with the burning embarrassment of being_ caught.

_Lea’s expression shifted into something more serious. “Can’t sleep?”_

_Isa fidgeted again. “Something like that.”_

_Lea hummed sympathetically. He propped himself up on his elbow, peering at Isa blearily through the dim light. The dregs of yesterday’s eyeliner had smudged under his eyes. It looked good on him, somehow. He pulled it off in a way that only Lea could._

_“Want me to help?”_

_“Uh,” Isa said, surprised at his own inarticulation. “What… did you have in mind?”_

_“Want me to return the favour?”_

_Isa felt something dangerous flicker in his stomach, and he willed it away before it had the chance to grow._

_“You mean…?”_

_Isa tugged at a strand of his own hair, the expression on his face slightly dumb-founded._

_“If you want.”_

_Lea smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and it was all Isa could do to nod dumbly and drag from his throat a hoarse, “Okay.”_

_Lea guided him closer with soft words and soft touches, until Isa’s head rested against the gentle thump of his heartbeat. He felt Lea’s fingers thread through his hair, slowly, softly, and Isa pressed his head harder against the beat of Lea’s heart, desperate for a closeness he had no idea how to ask for._

_Lea paused for a moment to drag painted fingernails across the top of Isa’s head. Isa’s skin sang against his fingertips,_ _a chorus of tingling and heat and_ pleasure. _He squirmed against Lea’s chest, and Lea responded by placing his other hand against Isa’s back, rubbing softly into the fabric of Isa’s t-shirt. There was a naivety to the touch; a clumsiness to his hands that rang with inexperience, but to Isa, there was nothing in the world that could feel more perfect. A sound escaped from the back of his throat, more than a breath but not quite a word, but Isa didn’t have the faculties to feel embarrassed. He was far too wrapped up in the symphony of singing nerve endings that Lea’s hands left in their wake._

_Isa considered a lot of things, that night._

_He considered draping an arm over Lea’s waist and pulling him in until he simply couldn’t come any closer._

_He considered threading his hands through Lea’s hair until he could coax from him the same sounds that Lea had coaxed from him._

_He considered lifting his face from Lea’s chest and spilling out every feeling he’d tried for years to bury._

_But he didn’t. He couldn’t. The_ what-ifs _and the_ what-thens _tumbled through his mind endlessly, and he squirmed against Lea’s chest once again, this time an entirely different kind of frustration._

_He’d felt this way for years._

_Unsure. Uncertain. And always, always undeserving._

* * *

Saïx had always been an early riser, so Axel wasn’t surprised when he woke up to find himself alone.

He rolled over onto his back, sighing so heavily that his chest twinged in protest. His eyes flicked, unthinkingly, towards the ceiling, and Axel felt the weight of it crush against his chest, so startingly tangible that if he closed his eyes, he might really have believed the walls had crumbled in on him. The twinge in his chest bloomed into an overwhelming pressure, clutching at his lungs, squeezing at them as though trying to wring the life right out of his body.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stumbled towards the bathroom. The cold porcelain of the sink echoed his breathing back to him as he leant over it, harsh and erratic and entirely at odds with the rest of the room. It was blank walls and plain furniture, the white of the space radiating calmness in a way that seemed to hit Axel and bounce straight off. A glimpse at himself in the mirror almost made him laugh; black and red and _chaotic_ in the vast white calm. Everything about it felt ridiculous, like someone had taken two jigsaws and mashed all the pieces together.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed in there; how long he spent staring into the sink while he waited for the weight to lift from his chest. It was with slightly shaky hands that he finally pushed himself away from the counter and padded back into the bedroom.

It was then that he noticed what he’d been too preoccupied to notice earlier.

It sat on the floor next to the bed, small and black and entirely unassuming. Axel noticed with bemusement that the shaking to his hands picked up again when he took hold of it, an object he’d seen so many times but had never before touched. He held it delicately in his hands, somewhere between holding a baby and holding a bomb.

The binder looked strange without Saïx holding onto it. He carried it around like a threat, but away from Saïx’s natural imposition, it looked less like a weapon and much more like cheap office supplies.

Axel ruffled through the pages experimentally.

He’d wondered for a long time what lay inside it. There were things in here he wasn’t supposed to know, he was sure of that; things that _no one_ was supposed to know. Saïx didn’t carry it around day and night out of an unhealthy attachment to the thing (or, at least, that wasn’t the _only_ reason), but to keep his secrets, quite literally, close to his chest.

There were so many questions that had gone unanswered.

Maybe now was a chance to put an end to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this update came a little late! It's sort of a bridge chapter, so it was never going to be the easiest thing to write, but I hadn't planned on spending quite so much time just trying to beat this thing into submission.  
> The next update will be late too, by a bit more of a margin. I have some exams coming up, and I wish I was being over-dramatic when I say they’re like, the most important exams of my entire life. So I need to go into revision hibernation for a bit. It will take a few weeks, but I’ll be back, promise.


End file.
